


All Good Things Come

by Falconette



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, adult characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: A slow burn romance with Kuroo, all grown up and smexy.Self-indulgent, but since I am writing the story anyway, I thought I might as well share it with you :)
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 128
Kudos: 290





	1. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shinnenkai is a meeting organized by a company, club or a group of friends that marks the beginning of a year and is usually held in a Japanese style café/restaurants and involves eating and drinking and informal socializing.

**All Good Things Come**

Chapter 1

**_January_ **

I wasn’t even playing volleyball so with each step I made past subway exit gates and closer to a restaurant where my friend’s club was having a shinnenkai party, I was losing my enthusiasm. What was I supposed to do if the conversation centered on sports? She had meant well, inviting me to hang around people instead of wilting in my room during the long, cold winter evenings, and it was true that I did not have any better plans for tonight, but in my state of mind the loud cheery voices that could be heard even from the outside were anything but encouraging.

Beside my friend, Hanako, I didn’t know anybody in there, but when I had pointed that detail out to her, she only winked knowingly;

“Maybe it is time for you to meet new people. You know, move on.”

She smiled like moving on was the most natural thing to do, even after everything that happened last year. I wish it were that simple for me, I didn’t know if I was ready yet. I envied the flowers that simply bloomed in Spring as if the Winter had never existed.

I let out a deep breath, trying to convince myself that maybe my Spring was just around the corner, pretending I didn’t see the shaky fog dissipating in the freezing air around my mouth. I could do this, one small step at a time. At this hour, everyone inside would either be tipsy or outright drunk and there was a good chance no one would take real notice of a new face that joined the table. The din was certainly promising a festive atmosphere inside.

Stepping in, I forced a smile while my eyes frantically searched for Hanako’s familiar figure. There she was; laughing and throwing her head back as an older man next to her recounted some story of his, all the while not forgetting to keep his glass filled. Her sharp eyes spied me standing awkwardly at the entrance and she made an exaggerated waving motion, calling me in and sitting me deftly between her and the talkative man. She was definitely not as drunk as she pretended to be.

“I am so glad you were in the neighborhood!” Hanako proclaimed in a conspicuously loud voice, patting my back and raising couple of curious heads from around the table. I smiled harder and nodded amicably in their general direction, mumbling,

“Well, I can stay for couple of minutes if it is alright…”

Hanako's hands politely motioned towards her former conversational partner, parroting formal pleasantries, “This is Mr. Sato, our head coach. The club would be absolutely lost without him.”

I bowed my head duly and the man curtly dipped his, clearly more interested in his drink than in the young woman that had just made his acquaintance.

My friend leaned into me conspiratorially, “Let’s find something to warm you up.” I scented a sweet whiff of schochu on Hanako’s breath as she fumbled through plates and bottles for an empty glass. She whispered with a mischievous – and genuine - smile, “See anything interesting?”

Hoping no one overheard, I gratefully took the drink and sipped, feeling the warmth bring color to my cheeks again. My timing was good; the dinner was already eaten and plates were being slowly replaced with ashtrays, snacks, bottles and glasses, the lights discreetly dimmed. 

As I pretended to listen to Mr. Sato’s one-sided conversation with my friend, over the rim of my glass I dared to sneak glances at the gathered bunch. Most of them were young part-time coaches, like Hanako, who spent their free time working with prosperous children in the volleyball club. Luckily, they didn’t talk about volleyball at all, easily drawing me into their conversations and toasts.

Later, memories of that evening would blur and evade me, not least due to copious amount of alcohol we collectively imbibed, but they were nevertheless warm and fuzzy. I remember the loud karaoke music form a table next to ours that bothered us until a couple of coaches challenged the other party to a signing contest. I remember Mr. Sato’s nostalgic stories about championships he won in his golden youth and the feeling of relief when he moved on to another victim. Apparently, everyone had their turn with Mr. Sato’s monologues that night and that in a way made me part of the team. I remember rising countless silly toasts with other staff members and being invited to watch the games kids were training for. I vaguely remember promising to join their fan club and shakily filling out a form with a pencil we procured from a grumpy waitress. Every crooked character I wrote, all over the designated lines, provoked a new salve of laughter. And, yes, I remember Tetsurou.

At that time he was just a quiet, handsome man that sat across the table from me and next to his partner, his glass never completely empty and his gaze focused throughout the evening. I didn’t even hear his voice then as he didn’t indulge in singing or loud conversations. Unable to decide whether his smile was polite or sly through the curtain of cigarette smoke between us, I wondered what his role in the team was.

Hanako noticed me glancing in his direction and, misinterpreting my interest, sighed, “That one is Mr. Kuroo, one of our best coaches. Smart, great with kids, funny and, unfortunately,” she put down a glass she had been holding with finality of slamming down a gavel, “unavailable.”

At that point, she didn’t have to pretend to be drunk; the slump of her shoulders and smeared make up betrayed her. “No ring on his finger yet, but…” she shook her head and frowned because she made herself dizzy, “Forget it.”

“Sounds like you tried something, eh? You never told me!” I laughed and pinched her side, eliciting a shrill giggle that was lost in the noise of the deafening karaoke duel.

“Nooo….” Hanako batted her eyes at me, feigning innocence, and I had to laugh again. “Well, not really,” her face got suddenly serious, a transformation only intoxicated people seem to pull off, “Kuroo san is… complicated. It is hard to guess what he is thinking.”

“Especially when you’re drunk!” I exclaimed and Hanako snorted with laughter, her hand pressing across her mouth too late to stop herself but her eyes continuing to gleam happily.

“True!” she chuckled, her shoulders shaking with sniggers. “Are you having a good time?”

Nodding my head emphatically, I replied, “Thank you for inviting me, I am so glad I came.”

One of the younger coaches, sweaty and red in the face, waved the crumpled form I messily filled and shouted from across the table, “And you are coming to the games too!”

The others joined in, hollering unarticulated calls until I stood up and solemnly, or as solemnly as I could on wobbly feet, declared that indeed I was going to be the most loyal fan ever. This was followed by a loud applause and a new karaoke song, somebody was already pouring us new drinks and that evening I didn’t spare another thought for the man with an enigmatic smile.


	2. April

Chapter 2

April

Winter’s reign was long, cold and stifling, however, once it showed its rays, the gentle and patient Spring sun started working wonders in nature. Before long, I too was shedding heavy winter clothing and exposing my skin to tentative warmth, responding to the season of new beginnings.

The hasty pledge I made to join the volleyball club’s fan base turned out to be the best New Year present I could have given myself, although it didn’t yet feel as such that day in late January when Hanako called me upon it. I grudgingly agreed to watch the childrens’ volleyball game if we went for a lunch afterwards, but instead of one-on-one juicy gossiping session with my friend, somehow I ended up eating cheap ramen with a bunch of noisy kids, their parents and couple of other coaches. Apparently, the club had a policy of treating the players in case of victory, so who was I to break the tradition.

And so it went, one game after another, the contagious suspense that surged through the crowd after the starting whistle, the exhilarating thrill of victory, the bitterness of defeat – I started adopting them as my own, letting them become a part of my life.

I even learned Hanako’s team members and often caught myself shouting out their names during heated matches, alongside their parents, slowly understanding why she invested a big part of her precious free time in club activities. It could not have been the money, since her fee was symbolic. It was not for her professional career because she stopped playing after high school and was not interested in pursuing a title in sports. Also, as she was a single, independent woman who could be going out and dating, it was always a mystery to me why Hanako would opt to spend hour after hour on a grimy volleyball court with a bunch of kids that were not even her own, but the experience of being a part of something bigger made me change my perspective.

It also helped me sail through that Winter and stop thinking about the past year for a change.

Sometimes, when Hanako or her colleagues could not make it, Mr. Kuroo would stand in, encouraging the young players and giving them advices mid-game. As a coach of older teens, he was a rare sight in junior league, so whenever his tall, lanky figure showed up on court even the most undisciplined children took in his every word without protest. Mr. Kuroo did not even have to raise his voice; his instructions were obeyed without him having to repeat himself, making Hanako shake her head in exasperated disbelief so many times.

The said tall and lanky figure was also a welcome sight among sharp-eyed moms who cooed and gossiped from stands with smiles and comments that did not befit the mousy housewives. That was how I learned that Mr. Kuroo once played in a national high-school tournament as a captain of his team, that he had a well-paid job, friends who were professional volleyball players and was the person to go to in need of one of their autographs. Also, that he was single after a recent break up.

So, when Hanako invited me to an organized cherry blossom viewing with the club staff in early April, I neither asked her to confirm the rumor nor did I inquire why she kept that particular piece of information to herself. I have seen the way she smiled at him, even when he wasn’t looking. Instead, I accepted the invitation eagerly, looking forward to the meet-up with the cheery bunch.

* * * * *

On the agreed day, as soon as I saw her, I noticed that Hanako took great care in choosing a dress that would complement her figure and make her look more feminine, despite the chill that still lingered in the air and called for layered clothing. Spending your time doing sports robs women of opportunities to display their full charms, so my friend decided to make a rare occasion like this count, putting on her make-up and arranging her hair with attention to details.

“Would you look at that, stealing the spotlight from sakura. You look very pretty today,” I told her honestly as we waited for our train. ”Is someone special going to be there?”

I raised my eyebrows playfully at her and made her chin dip self-consciously. Then, like she made a decision, her eyes found mine, “No one special, just… Kuroo san broke up with his girlfriend and if he’s coming alone…“

“Oh,” I feigned a surprise, glad to have Hanako confide in me after all, “Isn’t he ‘complicated’?”

Hanako nudged me with a pouty expression that only made her lovelier, “Maybe he won’t be if he loosens up a little and has a few.”

“Ok, ok, I get it. I am ready to go home alone if you two hit it off,” I laughed but Hanako’s expression changed.

“You don’t have to go home alone,” Hanako’s voice was bordering on concern, her eyes serious, “There are decent guys among other coaches.” I must have given her an incredulous look because she hastily added, “I am not telling you to find a husband there. Just go and have some harmless fun. It has been long enough.”

A voice from speakers above our heads announced arrival of the train and cut off my chance at a retort, though I really had none.

* * * * *

As the lowest rung in the pecking order, younger coaches were entrusted with the task to wake up early and come to Chidorigafuchi park with first morning trains in order to lay tarps on grass and ensure that the whole company had a place for spending the rest of the careless, lazy Sunday eating and drinking. The park was a fairytale painting. Soft-pink cherry blossom boughs seemed like clouds that got tangled in thin, black branches, raining their petals on people, pathways and the glistening moat water. Couples strolled around with goofy grins, groups gathered to chat and snack on pre-made morsels, children ran between food stalls and sitting clusters of people.

By the time Hanako and I joined our team, finding the right place among the sea of people was a quest, but Mr. Kuroo signature hairdo made the task easier. He was there alright and, by the looks of it, already did have a few. I took note of his disheveled clothes and a gloomy expression, at odds with the rest of the gang. The gathered bunch greeted us with tipsy cheers, making place on the blue tarp and helpfully handing us welcome drinks. Kuroo only followed the commotion with his undecipherable, silent gaze, a small half-empty bottle of sake in his hand.

Hanako, with the unwavering smile of a professional hostess, happened to find an empty patch next to the quiet coach, striking up a conversation with him in a melodious, warbling tone, in character with the girly outfit she wore.

“… ing,” I was suddenly aware of a voice next to me and, turning my head, I saw coach Yamada holding out a tray for me. When he realized I was not paying attention, he stuttered as he usually did in stressful situations (just imagine how the kids teased him), “H-help yourself to some s-sushi. I bought them f-fresh this morning.”

Yamada was one of the unlucky guys that got stuck with rising at dawn and dragging the tarp and food across Tokyo, but that didn’t seem to dampen his energetic personality. I smiled and helped myself to a roll, but just as I had finished chewing it, he already had a glass of sake prepared for me.

If Hanako was looking this way, she must be grinning now. Harmless fun, huh?

I accepted and raised the glass, then let the fiery liquid slide down my throat, relaxing my limbs and making me quicker to laugh, much to Yamada’s delight. So I let him chat me up, his stutter completely disappearing in matter of minutes. He was an enthusiastic youth who truly loved volleyball and still sometimes played as a semi-pro; too good to quit, not good enough to be a professional athlete. That didn’t mean he didn’t sport an athlete’s build and his strong points were the powerful thighs and the muscular shoulders of a spiker. I admit, I did notice him play and the anatomy of his arms was hard to miss in a tight T-shirt he wore, but he was barely a grown-up, too young for…

For what?

Yamato’s intentions were plain to see in his pure, clumsy honesty. Arranging a casual encounter with him would be the easiest thing in the world, but judging from his fervor, this would be more than a fling for him.

Did Hanako know he had a crush on me? Is that what she was trying to hint at?

I glanced in my friend’s direction. She was having a good time, or at least her beaming smile said so, but I had a distinct feeling that Kuroo was not really partaking. At one moment his wandering gaze met with mine and untypical dullness of his eyes stunned me.

“Ah, there you are! Maybe I should hire you as an official club member,” the inability to control volume of his voice told me all I needed to know about Mr. Sato’s alcohol intake. Still, as his junior, I readily offered to refill his glass, which he gladly accepted while seating himself unsteadily between Yamato and me. The young man set his jaw but could not protest, so he sulked in silence, his shoulders sagging.

“Well, I could run after stray balls and keep the net in order,“ I joked, putting the bottle away and passing a sashimi plate to the old man.

“Did I tell you about the time we ran out of balls during a match?” Mr. Sato asked and proceeded to tell the story without waiting for my reply. In a way, this was easier to bear than giving false hopes to Yamato-kun.

* * * * *

After Mr. Sato decided to switch places again, dusk was already lurking under heavy eaves. I took the opportunity to leave for the toilet before anyone could put another glass or a snack in my hand, needing a minute alone. On my way back, I lingered by the waterside, watching friends and lovers row elegant boats on quiet, petal strewn waters. In some parallel reality, a mere year ago, I was in one of those boats, happy in my own little world and not sparing a single thought on lonely women on the bank.

Maybe Hanako was right, maybe enough time had passed. Making Yamato’s wish come true may not be such a bad idea after all. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t find him physically attractive and it had been ages since I have last been with a …

…

I realized I was not alone. A tall man was standing beside me, as silent as the falling night, gazing at the same idyllic sight.

“Would you like to go for a boat ride?”

Kuroo’s deep, slightly slurred voice startled me; he sounded like he was talking to himself.

“What?” I mumbled, thinking I must have misheard.

He turned his head, one of his eyes concealed by his black hair. There was a moment in which I felt him take me in, study me intently. Something transpired across his face and the crooked, sly smile appeared on his lips as he repeated, more blandly, “Would you like to go for a boat ride?”

“Um, aren’t you going with Hanako?” I squeezed through my lips, suddenly aware that we were in a secluded spot, away from everybody, for the first time just the two of us alone. And that he was so drunk, he probably didn’t know who he was talking to.

“I just might,” in reply Kuroo gave me a grin that didn’t touch his eyes, then focused on a spot behind my shoulder. Instinctively, I followed his gaze to see my friend’s incredulous expression.

“I will just leave the two of you alone…” I quickly walked over to where Hanako was standing, petrified as a statute. She was still trying to keep the smile on, but I knew her too well. Before she could fight the tears no longer, I took her under the arm and led her to a park toilet, away from the public eye and from him.

The second we entered, her front crashed in sobs. 

“I am sorry, please don’t cry,” I put a hand on her back, hoping she would not slap it away in anger, “nothing happened, he just appeared there…”

“I… I know…” Hanako sounded more tired and frustrated than anything else. “He was flirting with other girls too. It was embarrassing to watch… But I still wanted to… I wanted to…”

I could just stand there and wait for her to let it all out, patting her back, watching her smear make up all over her pretty dress and wondering how did this happy get-together turn out this way. When I felt she had depleted her grief, I took her by the shoulders and looked her firmly in the eyes.

“It is clear what is happening here.”

Hanako just blinked at me through tears and running mascara, so I elaborated.

“You don’t want to be a girl he hooks up with on the rebound, do you?”

She shook her head at this, unconvincingly, so I repeated it as a statement.

“You don’t want to be a girl he hooks up with on the rebound. Ok?”

“Ok,” Hanako whispered, but there was soberness in her voice. She would be alright. After I helped her clean up, we returned to the party which had begun scattering.

Kuroo was still there, appearing to be in a better mood, sitting next to a laughing team secretary and, even without hearing what he was whispering in her ear, it was obvious that his jokes couldn’t have been _that_ funny. His hand tight around her waist also clearly indicated the direction that conversation was taking.

Hanako and I quickly said goodbyes to the rest of the group, thanking them for the good time and pointing out that tomorrow was a working day after all, and departed towards train station. I waved to Yamato whose longing gaze followed us openly. I reckoned it will be an awkward, stuttering meeting when he sees me again, all sober and proper.

I envied him. It must be nice to be so young, to not even be afraid of getting hurt.

Unfortunately, Yamato kun was also one of the unlucky guys who had to make sure garbage and leftovers were collected after everyone left. Judging by Mr Sato’s inexhaustible stamina and his vast memory, that could take a while.


	3. June

Chapter 3

_June_

I was typing away at work when I received Hanako’s message.

_Is it ok if I gave your number to Mr. Sato?_

I raised my eyebrows at the small screen.

_Yeah, sure._

Not long after, an unknown number was ringing up my phone so I excused myself from the office to take the call.

“Hello?” I asked in a hushed tone when I reached a corridor.

“Sato here,” the head coach’s voice was businesslike and to the point, unlike the festive version of the man, “I hope I am not calling at a bad moment.”

“No, it is alright,” even standing by myself, I bowed in reflex, “What can I do for you, sir?”

“Ah, you see, the season is in full swing and with several games played simultaneously, my coaches are all dispersed between different venues. They have to follow the team they are training and can’t help each other out.”

“I see…” I agreed, not seeing his point at all.

“What I’m saying is, we are a bit understaffed at the moment,” Mr. Sato seemed troubled.

“Is that so?” I put in a neutral comment intended to prompt further elaboration.

“The senior kids are playing tomorrow at 6 and there is nobody available to keep note of game stats. Usually, I would ask Hanako chan but since she is indisposed…”

The old man left the implication hanging in the air. This way I didn’t have to flat out refuse because he proposed nothing to me. I could always say I will ask a non-existent acquaintance for help and later inform him that they could not make it after all. Both his and my face would be saved.

I also knew the real issue here. The senior kids were Mr. Kuroo’s team and Hanako had been straight out avoiding him since hanami. Also, I knew for a fact that she was free tomorrow afternoon but I also didn’t want to open that can of worms. I understood her reluctance to put herself into a position where she could start having foolish ideas again so I decided to bite the proverbial bullet and take the pressure off my friend.

“It honors me that you deem I could be up for the task…” I said humbly, only to be interjected by Mr. Sato’s relieved, cheery voice from the other side.

“Of course, dear girl! You have been coming to games, helping the kids and Hanako chan. Don’t think I don’t know everything about it. You have already become, not only a part of the club, but a part of the team so to say hahaha.”

Of course, now there was no going back.

“I will try to do my best,” my head instinctively dipped again. “I hope I will justify your expecta…”

“You will do fine!” there was not a trace of doubt in his tone and I hoped that was real conviction and not just wishful thinking. I have never been entrusted with keeping stats of a game, let alone one on that level. “I will inform Kuroo kun that you’ll be coming tomorrow. If you could just write down the details…”

* * * *

The court was fairly easy to find; the outside of the venue swarmed with people with insignias of all teams that were playing that day. The older the players got, the more attractive their matches became and not only their parents, but also real aficionados, were being drawn in. Honestly, I did not know our club had such a big fan base so I kept patiently smiling back to people who waved at me at the sight of the club crest I wore on my shirt. This was nothing like the kiddie games, at all.

Mr. Sato did a thorough job of informing all concerned about my arrival and I passed every check point without problems. Step by step, I cleared the stands and, amid bustling and noise, approached the low bench reserved for the club staff. Just a few steps away laid the empty, polished court, deceptively still, a slender net dividing it in two.

“Hello,” I nodded as I put down mine on a heap of similar bags with the club’s logo. Kuroo briefly raised his gaze from a clipboard he was holding and nodded back, acknowledging my presence. His team surrounded him and, even though there were already high-schoolers as tall as him among them, only his deep voice could be heard. Although his tone sounded calm and confident, the kids didn’t seem just sharply attentive, though; they looked plenty anxious to me. After all, they were playing on the other team’s turf where the familiarity and the crowd were working for the home team.

After he went through several points with his players, Kuroo instructed them to stretch and stepped closer, observing the notepad I have already diligently prepared.

“So, you got stuck with the dull chores of a statistician,” he put on the aloof half smile that didn’t feel genuine all.

Unsure if that was a jab or expression of empathy, I vaguely smiled. He studied me for a moment, like he didn’t know what to do with me, then asked,

“You did keep stats before, right?”

“Yeah, for Hanako’s team,” I tried to sound convinced in my ability, but with every second the beginning of the match was closer, the deeper the pit in my stomach. Maybe this was all a big, big mistake. The sounds, the procedures, the energy of this place were unlike anything I though volleyball was. And the real thing hasn’t even started yet.

Kuroo must have sensed my nervousness and seen the white knuckled grip on the notepad in my lap so he cocked his head to the side, the tenacious tuft of his hair staying in place against the force of gravity, and said loud enough for his team to hear. 

“Don’t worry, if the game gets too fast for you to follow, I will just tell the boys to slow the ball down a little.”

At that the whole team roared with laughter, shaking off jitters and transforming anxiety into a pleasant anticipation. Their coach’s grin didn’t turn into a laugh however, his eyes remaining avid.

Leaning closer to me, he said in a lower voice, “Sorry about that miss, the kids were awfully tense. Just try to note everything you can and if you lose track, don’t panic. Carry on and do your best.”

Did he just give me a pep talk?

I nodded, feeling like the youngest, most inexperienced player on the team and, in a way, I was. My gaze turned to the kids in our club’s colors – our colors – and I said timidly, “I will try hard, so please bear with me.”

The boys smiled and clapped, some even gave encouraging cheers to the silly lady who felt and looked even more stressed out than they were, instantly boosting up their confidence.

“Alright,” the coach shouted out, his eye on the referee, “gather round!”

The team clasped each other’s shoulders and formed a tight circle, sharing the last moments before the game, but more than listening in on them I was occupied with stopping a pencil in my hand from shaking.

Just like a bee swarm, the boys dispersed with set faces, suddenly looking older than a minute ago. They were on a mission.

From the first serve it was plain to see this game was on a whole different level. There was none of the casualness or clumsy play of the junior league, no redundancy or indecisiveness. Even the fans were more invested, following every fast action with eyes of raptors, vocalizing their emotional rollercoasters. And that was exactly what played out before me; fast actions and reactions, quick reflexes, split second decisions that scored or lost points, turning the tables again and again.

There was no way I could write down everything essential that transpired but the task I was entrusted with at least saved me from getting too emotionally invested in the match. The coach, of course, had no such privileges. However, aside from being attentive and proactive when it came to instructing the players, Kuroo didn’t seem the kind to get overly agitated.

Even though ever since the game started all I saw from him was his back, when he had to raise his voice to be heard across the court, it had a calm, authoritative ring to it. If the team felt he was in control, they will believe they were in control too; that they were controlling the game. Little by little, it seemed the other team had succumbed to their conviction too and, in solid progress without flashy points, our team was winning.

“How are we doing?” a breathless voice next to me made me flinch. I turned to see young Yamato checking the score board and then peering at my notes, still trying to regain his breath like he had been running to get here. Kuroo acknowledged his arrival with a brief slanted glance and Yamato curtly nodded in response. Then he smiled at me.

“They’re looking good! Seems like this will be the last set,” he was pleased. “Sorry I couldn’t get here before, had to lend a hand with another game. Do you need help with the stats?”

“I could use some help, thanks,” I have never been so happy to see Yamato, gladly letting him take over the task of noticing relevant facts and spelling them out for me to write. It came as natural as breathing to him; he noted every detail without a conscious effort while following the game, enormously raising the quality of the collected data.

The home team didn’t give up until the end, but our team’s solid defense and slow but constant progress eventually paid off.

“Wooohooo!” with the final whistle Yamato sprang up like a coil and ran onto the court to hug and high-five our players, disregarding the surly looks of the home crowd. “We did it!”

A look of relief shimmered on Kuroo’s profile before he politely smiled to shake hands with the other team’s coach. “Next time, we might not be so lucky,” he said bowing to his counterpart and accepting their congratulations.

After the formalities, he gathered the players for a short briefing then came over to me, his hand extended.

“Let’s see your notes while I still have the game in my head.”

And he wasn’t kidding. Kuroo took the notebook, his eyes following line after line of my scribbles, adding notes of his own here and there in slanted, elegant handwriting. In the end he wrote two e-mail addresses.

“Not bad for your first time,” he handed the notebook back to me with a tone that left me wondering if he meant it as a compliment or a complete opposite, “Please copy the data and send it to Mr. Sato and me.”

“May I have a copy as well?” Yamato’s head bowed quickly, his cheeks reddening. “I-I m-missed the b-beginning…”

Kuroo gave him a long, inquisitive look before responding, a slow smile spreading across his face but not quite warming his eyes, “Of course.”

However,owever when the young coach reached for the pen and notebook, Kuroo continued with an unwavering grin, “I will forward you the e-mail.”

Without waiting for Yamato’s reaction, the coach straightened out with his hands on hips and loudly addressed the players that were resting or collecting their bags and belongings,

“Make sure you don’t forget anything. Yamato, do a headcount. We are leaving in 5 minutes. Across the street is a noodle restaurant “Kitsune”. We celebrate our victory there.”

The players hooted and instantly shifted into a higher gear, ravenous after the game. The buzz and the high of victory was a wave they rode drunkenly, the gleam in their eyes and the smiles they couldn’t suppress even if they tried made them look invincible. It was nice to be a small, expendable part of that story, even if it was by looking from the outside in.

I packed my things into the bag and stood aside, waiting for the opportunity to say goodbye before heading home.

“Are you not hungry?” Kuroo asked when he noticed me all packed up for departure in my own direction. The kids turned their heads to me with questions on their faces, suddenly making me self-aware and confused. The coach’s instructions were short and clear, unable to be misinterpreted. However, I seemed to manage to do just that.

“I though that only team members were invited…” my lips mumbled as I shifted uncomfortably.

With a dead serious expression, Yamato proclaimed, “Of course!”

Kuroo cocked his head to the side, bemused, “Do you not wear our colors?”

I averted my gaze, feeling foolish. Of course I did. Because I was sharing their bench and their game, I was sharing their triumph or their defeat. Now it seemed I would be sharing their meal too.

“Well, yeah” I cracked a smile and waited for the giddy teenagers to finally get a move on, “I am actually starving. Didn’t get a chance to eat anything after I got back from work.”

“Well then,” the tall coach gave the expression which, for the first time, I could definitely categorize as pleased, “off we go. Another match will begin soon and we need to clear the bench.”

* * *

“Kitsune” turned out to be a neat little restaurant that was just barely big enough to fit the entire volleyball team, but the boys weren’t squeamish about narrow seats and the restaurant owner about catering to a noisy bunch, so we soon settled in and were expectantly awaiting our noodles.

While we ate, the boys in turn pestered their coach to talk about his high-school volleyball career and excitedly recounted today’s game. Kuroo indulged them by replying vaguely on former and constructively on latter questions while slurping his udon.

Sitting next to him, I had a chance to observe him close up, seeing why Hanako took interest in him. Kuroo was a handsome man, confident (or at least seeming so), intelligent and the kids looked up to him. Apparently, after high-school he decided to share his knowledge and experience in the sport with the new generation, so I guess he had a generous streak as well, although one could not tell that at first.

The thought of my friend brought a pang of guilt. There was nothing wrong with me being here, eating ramen next to Kuroo, but I sensed she would not be happy about it.

Just as I was starting to acknowledge his positive traits, the coach put his bowl down.

“Don’t let this win get into your heads,” he warned his team while he neatly placed his chopsticks down by the ceramic bowl, his words a cold, sobering shower, “This was one of the weaker opponents of the league. So weak they couldn’t capitalize on the advantage of a home court.”

The noise died down instantly as the boys mulled over implications, their appetites lost. He took the wind right out of their sails.

“Tomorrow, we start training for the next match,” he continued, now that he had their attention, “two weeks is not a long time for preparations but I think we can make this season a winning streak.”

“Oss!” the boys responded with a unison bow of their heads, the determination in them rekindled. It was clear they were looking ahead to the next challenger, not willing to resting on today’s laurels anymore.

“Will you be able to make it?” I did not expect the question so it took me a moment to react. Kuroo waited for my reply with a bemused expression, then added, “We need to keep a record of every game.”

“Sempai,” Yamato’s zealous voice shot in, “I am available!”

There was a gleam in Kuroo’s eyes as he turned to the younger man with a smile, “I don’t know Yamato kun, she brought us luck this time, so…”

Maybe it was just my impression, but he seemed to enjoy the vexed look on Yamato’s face too much. I started to suspect he proposed that I join them again just to torment the poor young coach but having read nothing from Kuroo’s face, as usual, I made a noncommittal gesture with my head.

“I should be able to make it,” I said vaguely, but when I saw the faces of the boys brighten up, I knew I would clear my schedule to be on that bench again, supporting them from the first row.

* * *

Later, while I rode the train home, I examined the e-mail address Kuroo wrote in my note book. As my finger slid over the regular, slanted characters of his handwriting, my thoughts were on the next game. I should also prepare in the meantime, research how to do my part better, look up the next opponents, … tell Hanako.

But even though there was nothing to tell really, there was a part of me that didn’t like the prospect of her taking my place of a data collector for Kuroo’s team. I liked feeling useful, sure, being a part of the team was great also, but games in that league brought an addictive level of emotional charge, investment in the outcome, effort, frustration and elation and now that I entered that world, it was hard to give it up. The boys counted on me. Mr. Kuroo counted on me.

An image of his back came to my mind, as he avidly followed the game playing out before him, his unruly black hair the only thing about him that wasn’t controlled or focused. I liked the idea that he asked me to be there, on his bench, again.

I sighed, not in a rush to fetch my phone as my eyes rested on his name in his e-mail address. If Hanako wanted to take on the duty of a statistician, there was nothing I could do to stop her. She was an official coach in the club and has already forgotten more about volleyball than I will ever learn. But she didn’t have to hear how the game went or tell me her decision just yet.

Today I wanted to slowly relive the game and the dinner we all shared, cherishing the feeling of belonging, just for the time being.


	4. July

Chapter 4

_July_

Hanako didn’t seem to mind delegating the duties of a helper, being too busy with her own team that didn’t start the season as successfully as Kuroo’s boys. The only jab I got from her was a comment that if she had known I would be so ready to do tedious chores, she would have hired me herself first.

I guess that to players and coaches data collecting might seem like a necessary evil, but for somebody like me, it was one of the scarce ways to participate without being on the stands with the rest of the crowd. The more games I covered, the keener my eye became and the plays revealed layers I didn’t even realize existed. I started enjoying matches on a completely different level.

Yamato kun helped with my learning a lot, ecstatic to be able to teach me more about the field he loved so much. I was, however, careful not to give the guy any false hopes because I was sure I was not imagining his affection. Glances I caught from Kuroo who bemusedly observed Yamato’s overly zealous explanations and who would subtly tease him assured me the coach had noticed it too. I also know that Kuroo’s avid eyes caught my lingering gazes on Yamato’s muscular back _(hey, I am a living, breathing woman and Yamato kun is a nicely built specimen)_ with the same shimmering half-grin on his face.

But mixing business with pleasure would only complicate things and I guessed Yamato was just too young to realize that so I had to be the voice of reason. Our objective was winning volleyball matches, not hooking up. The coach didn’t have to tell me that.

* * * *

The last game in late July before the summer break was set a bit earlier than usual, at 5 PM, so I had to ask one of my coworkers to cover for me in order to make it to the venue in time. Even so I was cutting it close, wondering if I’ll have trouble finding my club amid the crowd inside the hall. However, my heart somersaulted when I registered the team and Yamato gathered on front steps. A look of brief relief swept across their faces when they spotted me.

“K-Kuroo senpai is l-late,” Yamato said quietly, pulling me aside so the players wouldn’t witness his growing panic. By the way he struggled with words, I knew he was barely coping, “He is n-never late.”

“Aren’t you a coach too?” I asked, earning an incredulous look. I don’t think he even noticed he was gripping my shoulder.

“T-this is a league g-game,” Yamato’s face went white at the thought of taking Kuroo’s place, “T-they need their c-coach.”

I glanced at my watch. The boys really should have been inside and changing by now. If I knew that, they definitely did too. And yet, here they were, shuffling from one foot to the other while time – and their opportunities – were slipping through their fingers.

At that instance I realized I was the oldest person here, the senpai. They were looking at _me_ for guidance. Oh, great.

“Well, they will just have to settle with you, since their coach is not here,” I said in a no-nonsense voice, my mind disregarding all blaring panic sirens inside my head.

“Come on boys, on the double,” I turned to the team and motioned towards the entrance with my head, praying that they would listen to the woman on their team who carried a notepad around and didn’t know much about volleyball to begin with. “”You don’t have to win, but you owe it to your coach to be on the court when the game begins!”

Miraculously, their feet moved, their faces set now that they had a focus and a task at hand. They did the routine countless times already, they just needed to be set in motion. Yamato looked at me gratefully, finally letting his hand drop.

“I was j-just hoping… m-maybe Kuroo senpai would s-show up any second n-now…” his head hung as he exhaled. He looked so young and lost at that moment, I just wanted to put my arm around him for consolation, but fought the urge. After all, he _was_ a coach of the team, he needed to get a grip not a crutch.

“It is ok, we’ll manage until he arrives. Is every player here?” my own tone was businesslike, prompting him to snap out of it. There was no time for dillydallying, the crisis was not averted yet.

“Y-yeah, we’re good to go,” he replied in a more collected voice.

“Good, let’s go and clear the credentials then.”

* * * *

The other team was already doing their warm up routine when we found our court. Settling on a bench, Yamato went to greet his counterparts while I asked the kids to change on the spot. There really was no time to be looking for changing rooms now. At least inside the air conditioning was helping us escape the stifling summer heat. I reminded the boys to get hydrated; who knows how long had they been waiting outside.

Yamato jogged back, some color returning to his cheeks now that things started to resemble the routine. He was opening his mouth to say something when he stopped in his tracks with wide eyes focused on something behind my back.

A tall man with striking golden eyes stood there, his broad shouldered built betraying an active athlete. He was frowning and rubbing his chin in expression of a profound confusion.

“Neee, manager lady, is Kuroo not the coach of this team?” he asked, then mumbled to himself, “Did I go to a wrong place again?”

“B-bokuto san!” Yamato stammered after he finally remembered to breathe again, dropping a towel he was holding, “It really is y-you?”

All around me, the kids stopped in the middle of their preparations and stared, suddenly oblivious of the game that was supposed to start mere minutes from now. It seemed this person, who used Mr. Kuroo’s name so casually, had a gravity of his own, bending people’s wills in his presence. I had no idea what to make of it, but I instinctively knew this time the team would not listen to a word I said.

The newcomer’s face beamed with a proud smile, all traces of confusion wiped away, “The one and only!”

Registering movement behind him, my eyes focused on the approaching figure and now it was my turn to stare. Kuroo’s long legs made a fast approach in big strides, one of his fingers loosening the knot of his tie. The tie that matched his shirt and suit and looked out of place on him and on the volleyball court, as well as completely misplaced in a sultry Japanese summer. It also made a very appealing impression. I just blinked, trying to process that this was not cosplay, reminding myself that Kuroo had a day job and other outfits aside from track suits.

“Ugh, Bokuto, you ruined the surprise! You were supposed to show up later.” The coach groaned in exasperation and both men half-hugged, patting each other’s shoulders. “Always out to steal the spotlight.”

Well if that was so, in my case he failed completely. I could not take my eyes off the tall, elegant man in a suit, toying with the idea to snap a photo for Hanako.

The bulky guest only roared with laughter, slapping Kuroo on the back couple of times more for good measure, any traces of reprimand sliding off him like water off an oily surface. While Kuroo was not a small man, he shook under every friendly ‘pat’ he endured.

“Sorry for being late, got held back at work,” Kuroo then turned towards us with a small smile of acknowledgment, “I see you got everything under control here.”

Yamato curtly bowed, his lips tight. He was probably thinking of a disaster we barely avoided. Still under the impression, I only nodded ok, my clipboard pressed to my chest. It didn’t feel like talking to a team member, it felt like reporting to my boss. Kuroo looked slick, professional and competent, the only quirky detail about him being the signature hairdo. He did seem to try and tame it with gel, but without much lasting success.

“Bokuto, go through the warm up routine with them and absolutely no autographs until the game finishes,” Kuroo curtly ordered and disappeared among people with his sports bag under his arm.

“Come ooon, I didn’t come here to work,” the other man protested, just to turn to the kids the very next moment and, seeing he got their undivided attention, his mood instantly improving. “Alright then, let’s get fired up!”

He raised his hands and the kids mimicked with a shout like he were a messiah. I used the moment to quietly ask Yamato who this Bokuto person was.

The young coach’s eyes gleamed over as he explained with a tone of reverence, “He is one of our best spikers, playing on the national team. As a kid, I’ve had his poster in my room. He is amazing!”

“Really?” I asked, unconvinced, as I watched him move among our players. By their demeanor, it was hard to tell who was a kid and who the adult.

“He was my hero,” without a single stutter Yamato mouthed as he too watched them, for once totally ignoring me. Being a spiker himself, it was no wonder he would look up to somebody like Bokuto. Yamato continued in a daze, “Kuroo senpai played against him in school tournaments.”

“They were not friends?” I inquired, puzzled by the amicable exchange I just witnessed between the two.

“We weren’t teammates,” Kuroo’s voice was suddenly beside me, the man was as silent as a cat, “but that doesn’t mean we weren’t friends.” He was in his casual clothes again, the suit neatly folded in a bag. A complete transformation.

“Oh,” I kept looking at Bokuto with kids, mesmerized by his antics. A national volleyball team player? Really? “Whose team was better?”

The second I felt Kuroo dark glare on me, I knew I shouldn’t have asked that.

“Not everything is about the score. The effort, the teamwork, the experience is what counts most,” he said with a raised eyebrow in a carefully patient tone like he was explaining a simple thing to a dense pupil.

“Aha,” I just nodded, unused to see the cool coach provoked over such a minor issue, “I see.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I thought we were trying to win the games we play, though,” I commented to myself, feeling him angrily blink at me. Then I couldn’t hold it any longer and I started laughing. The situation was not all that funny, but the stress and tension that started building up since I arrived to find things in disarray here finally subsiding and my body needed a relief valve.

“Sorry, sorry,” I explained through snickers, “I am just surprised to see you could hold a grudge for something that happened years ago.”

Kuroo observed me for a moment before giving in and cracking a smile too, a small but significantly different from his signature smirk.

“I guess you’ve got a point there,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, neutralizing any effect that gel might have had on his rooster hairdo, “In the end, we all play to win.”

“And Bokuto played better?” with a smile I tried to provoke him further, but to no avail - he had collected his aloof front already.

“Well, there is a reason why he is a professional player and I am coaching kids,” as he spoke, Kuroo’s silent, focused eyes were on his friend but there was an unmistakable affection in his gaze and a great deal of respect. I supposed if Kuroo san had such an opinion of the man, he couldn’t be all that he seemed to be.

“Alright,” the coach finally stood up, “Gather around!”

* * * *

Probably feeling he owed a favor, Yamato took it upon himself to dictate all relevant data for me to write down. Not only was keeping notes this way immensely easier, it helped me gauge how far I have come in noticing all there was to notice.

As usual, Kuroo spent the game standing with his back turned to us, closely following what transpired on the court. Now that they were back under his hand again, the players focused on the game. A big incentive for victory today was an opportunity to eat with one of the best national spikers so they worked hard for every point.

Bokuto, on the other hand, was moving back and forth from standing by his friend to sitting beside us on the bench like a hyperactive child. The children’s league was probably not an enticing spectacle for a world-level player even though he was an unexpected sight for everyone who recognized him. And with his spiked two-colored hairdo he was hard to miss.

At one point he peered in my notebook and studied the scribbles I made, completely invading my personal space but by then I have figured out it was impossible to be mad at him for not adhering to forms and rules. In that respect, he was like one of Hanako’s little league kids.

“Ha, I knew his team would completely focus on defense,” Bokuto exclaimed and I swear I could see Kuroo cringe, “That is why their matches drag on forever. I hope they don’t plan to prolong this one into the night, I’m hungry.”

I thought about his observation, finding it strangely accurate. It fitted Kuroo’s personality to be guarded and calculated, to put up a wall, observe and score points on the other side’s mistakes. No wonder he coached the team the same way. I made a mental note to follow matches of other clubs and see the differences in strategies.

“It is not night yet, Bokuto san,” Yamato’s discreet voice came from my other side, “It is not yet 6 o’clock.”

“Really?” the other man blinked, truly surprised, “That means we will have to wait for hours?”

I don’t know how he managed to follow the game and out conversation, but we all felt Kuroo’s glare when he half-turned toward us.

“You keep talking like that and it will be you treating us to dinner and not the other way round,” he growled.

“Heeey, don’t be like that Kuroo,” Bokuto’s shoulders sank, he seemed genuinely sorry, “I am not even sure I brought my wallet with me.”

Kuroo’s eye twitched before he focused on the game again and I had to clasp a hand across my mouth to stop myself from laughing. I recalled Hanako’s serious voice telling me how complicated and cool Kuroo san was, but I guess she didn’t witness him with all the right buttons pushed.

Remarkably, Bokuto didn’t seem aware he had that effect on his friend at all, the blessed man. I liked him more and more.

* * * *

In the end, our team was victorious and it took the boys half the time they usually needed to wash up and change before they were ready to celebrate with a dinner. In the mild ruddy light of a setting sun, the guest of honor was leading the gleeful procession towards the place Kuroo picked, chatting incessantly.

“So you finally have a lady club manager,” Bokuto grinned, somehow instantly pissing his friend off with the innocent remark.

“She is not a club manager,” Kuroo squeezed through teeth while walking and checking my notes. He liked to go through them while every impression was still fresh.

“A lady coach?” Bokuto persisted, genuinely interested.

Kuroo’s frown only deepened. I walked a few steps behind, alongside Yamato kun who only had eyes for his idol, but close enough to inadvertently eavesdrop.

“A lady doctor? A lady physiotherapist? “ Bokuto paused with dramatically raised eyebrows,” … The lady?”

“Are you an idiot!” Kuroo finally snapped and closed the notebook in his hand, ”Did you not see she was keeping stats!?”

Bokuto’s head turned back and our eyes met. I felt the piercing gaze of the other man’s big golden pupils upon me as he tilted his head in a curiously birdlike gesture.

“Right, the stats…” he finally concluded as he faced forward again with a peculiar curve in his smile that left me wondering.

Was it possible that Kuroo’s close friend did not know that Kuroo was dating the club secretary? On the other hand, I haven’t seen her on any games, which in itself was not particularly strange. If I was dating a hockey coach, would I attend his team’s games? I couldn’t tell for sure.

If I asked what Hanako thought about it, she would probably misunderstand my question. And I didn’t want to inquire with her about Kuroo’s relationship status. If I had continued attending the little league games, I bet the moms would tell me everything I wanted to know and more, but in the end, it did not matter.

We wrapped up the first part of the season with flying colors and the kids were going on a long, well deserved holiday. The next matches would take place in September which seemed light years away. I was taking some time off work too, making plans for going out and creating new acquaintances, friends and maybe something more. I was ready for a new leap. The summer is crazy and unpredictable with long days and warm nights when anything could happen. I could practically smell romance in the air.

But before the new chapter could begin, this one had to properly end so I sat myself amid my unruly and chattering team and scanned the menu with a smile of a sweet anticipation.


	5. August

Chapter 5

_August_

The heat combined with humidity was unbearable. Tokyo in summer was no fairy land and I found myself dragging my feet whenever I had to cross over from one air-conditioned area to another. Even though every winter I prayed for it to come, every year I had the same change of mind once the temperatures started seriously rising. On the positive side, Hanako and I finally had a chance to indulge in shopping, discovering new cafes, evaluating cake shops and simply catching up.

The fact was, I missed my friend. She had her junior league team to train and supervise, and since I became unofficial member of Mr. Kuroo’s bunch, more often than not one of us was too busy to enjoy an evening of long, leisurely conversations over a drink like we used to.

School holidays changed that, finally, and the warm nights often found us two gals aimlessly strolling through the city streets, talking, talking, talking. Though she did ask how I managed as a data collector and even offered advices, one topic was pointedly avoided. I figured there was a part of Hanako that would gladly change places with me, but also another part that knew no good would come out of it. As long as she wasn’t sure how she felt about it herself, I knew she wouldn’t be comfortable addressing the issue. Friends just know such things about each other, so I let her take her time.

We attended couple of gōkon – mixer dates - bringing some of our girl friends to an informal dinner with a bunch of random guys and, although we did have loads of fun, neither Hanako nor I really clicked with any of them. They were all fine young men with promising careers and cool hobbies interested in flings or something more, but there was just no chemistry.

“You are not really trying,” Hanako pouted at me with a mock frown as we slowly walked to the station, our short dresses fluttering across our bare thighs.

I shrugged, feeling a film of sweat forming across my skin despite the late hour, “I did, there was just nothing between us.”

“Of course not, you have to work harder to create something! We could have at least let them walk us to the train,” she looked towards the skies, sounding like a petulant child, “I want to feel pampered, even just until the train arrives.”

I laughed, “That would just give them a wrong impression and unnecessarily complicate things.” I put my arm around her shoulders, “Besides, two strong, independent women do not need men to have a good time, right?”

Hanako peered at me, her make-up smeared by perspiration, “You have to give them a chance to show you how well raised and considerate they are. It is hard to get to know somebody just in a gōkon.”

“Look who’s talking,” I gently shook her, “I don’t see you giving any of those guys a second chance either.”

She sighed, capitulating. “For me it is different…”

“Different?” I raised my eyebrows, “How?”

Hanako gave me a long look then waved her hand dismissively, deciding not to elaborate after all. We walked in silence for a while, our small handbags swinging on long straps in beat of our steps, the heels of our shoes clicking against the sidewalk.

“Nee…” Hanako began, “You are free this weekend, right?”

After I nodded, she continued. “The club is having the annual summer party.”

“A party that lasts two days?” I asked, side-stepping a drunk salary-man comfortably sprawled next to a closed food stall, too wasted to take a train home. Since it was late, the chances were he would either stay there all night or stumble to a capsule hotel at some point. 

“Well, we call it a party but what we do is gather in Mr Sato’s old family house at the seaside and spend the weekend playing beach volleyball, making barbeque and drinking.” Hanako gave me a mischievous smile, “Of course, no kids are allowed, only staff. It is a little casual get-together for coaches before the season kicks off again.”

“You sure like to keep your get-togethers casual,” I mused, remembering the cheerful atmosphere of the last shinnenkai and hanami. “Are you sure it would be ok for me to show up?”

“Yeah, Mr. Sato asked me to invite you.” She nudged me with an elbow, “I think he might adopt you.”

“Maybe as a ball girl.”

We laughed and the sleeping salary man turned and mumbled something unintelligible, prompting us to quiet down and tiptoe away, letting the man rest.

“Alright, I’m in,” I said after couple of steps, already thinking about the preparations I needed to make. Unexpected prospect of lounging by the sea seemed like a perfect weekend, “Where do we meet for the trip?”

“We don’t,” Hanako said looking ahead and there it was again, the same hesitation on her face. “We rent cars and the drives pick up the teammates living closest to them. I am going with Mr. Sato and Mr. Kuroo already assigned you and Yamato kun to his route.”

Before I could stop it, a flutter went through me.

Even though I didn’t want to admit it, I was acutely aware that there was a chance Kuroo would also go, but I would rather walk all the way home in these uncomfortable high heeled shoes than ask Hanako for a confirmation. The idea of him not only attending, but driving me there, tied my stomach into a strange knot I didn’t know what to do with.

It became clear to me that I sort of _wanted_ to see him. There was no reason to meet Kuroo san outside volleyball venues and I didn’t expect to see him until September, since our paths didn’t normally cross at all. But the afternoons spent together in matches and evenings in celebrating victories imprinted an expectation in me which wasn’t just about feeling accepted in the team. Getting to know the coach little by little was the real bonus. Then it hit me – Kuroo must be living somewhere in my neighborhood, even though in Tokyo that means a wide scope of buildings and streets.

“How does Kuroo san know my address?” I asked Hanako in genuine surprise.

“From your application form, of course,” she said matter-of-factly, “It is no secret.”

“Oh, right,” I muttered just as we were entering the station, hoping to catch the last train. Even though data collecting was my task, it seemed he was ahead of me there.

* * *

“Hi! How have you been?” overly excited Yamato waved at me from a spotless rented car that stopped in front of the building I lived in.

“Close the window, you are letting the heat in,” Kuroo’s stern voice, which he usually reserved for his team when they were being exceptionally unruly, trailed from the inside of the vehicle.

Young Yamato obliged, the wide grin on his face not budging an inch.

“Do you need help with that bag?” as he spoke, he was already opening the car door and taking the luggage from my hands. The cool air from the inside spilled out like a precious salve, “Please get in, I’ll take care of this.”

“Hi,” I nodded my head while seating myself in the back, grateful to escape from the sun, and Kuroo, with his permanently windswept mop of hair, turned towards me to return the greeting. I noticed the skin of his left arm with which he grasped the passenger seat was tanned and its wiry muscles taut, making me wonder if he resorted to jogging or exercising outside, now that the volleyball training sessions have been put on summer hold.

“Hi,” he said, unrushed, looking back at me, and I felt the pause was several heartbeats too long before he continued, “Are you ready to party?”

“Always,” I smiled, unable to suppress the blush that climbed up my cheeks just as Yamato was closing the car door behind him.

“Great, let’s go then!” the young man exclaimed, pulling a baseball hat from somewhere and putting it on, more than ready to be on the way.

Kuroo and I shared an indulging smile before he turned to front and started the engine, “Alright.”

“It’s just the three of us?” I wondered and Yamato turned back to me with an eager nod.

“That’s right, no one else lives in this area so we are lucky,” he beamed, “Four or five would be a crowd.”

“And would be more people to split the costs with,” Kuroo’s voice was flat and distracted as he concentrated on traffic.

Yamato shrugged with no regrets, “That is true, but still…”

The driver maneuvered through the streets, guided by Yamato’s reading of a map. All I could see from the back seat were Kuroo’s long fingered hands on the steering wheel and back of his head, but I also realized something else. I smelled a distinct scent of him, the mixture of his cologne, shampoo, _him_ , that I never consciously noticed before. In disinfected environment of the rented car, it stood out like a familiar, homing beacon almost making me lean closer to the driver’s seat. When we finally reached a straight patch of highway, Kuroo’s eyes met mine in the rear view mirror, making me flinch inside.

“So,” he asked in his deep voice, “do you miss volleyball?”

“Uh-huh,” I replied vaguely, wondering if the question hid a less obvious implication or if that was just my wishful thinking, so I added, “But I think the break is good for all of us. We need to escape the routine now and then, right?”

“Kuroo senpai still coaches,” Yamato was quick to add,”Otherwise, the pause would be too long.”

“I though the schools were closed,” I addressed the eyes in the mirror. Without the smile to soften their expression, they gave a crafty, scheming impression.

“They are,” Kuroo explained, “but we use the outside playground. It is not ideal, but serves the purpose.”

“Oh,” I mused to myself, “Hanako is not doing any summer training. Maybe,… her kids are too young for that?”

Kuroo’s gaze shifted on the road ahead without a comment.

“If they were serious about winning, they would be on the court even now,” Yamato proclaimed with a tone of finality, “When I was in elementary school, I trained every day. No exceptions.”

I said nothing, in fear that by agreeing I would make my friend look bad and by defending her I would show that I thought she needed justification. Kuroo observed my inner struggle in the mirror and added after some time, “Well, there are more important things for children of that age to do for their holidays.”

I could tell that Yamato disagreed but did not want to contradict his sempai, and I was grateful for Kuroo’s intervention.

“Is this radio station ok for you?” this time he half turned, the eye in shadow of black bangs first resting on my bare knee and then moving to my face. It was a miniscule movement, but I saw it and for a weird reason it made me feel triumphant. So this cool and aloof man was after all just a man. He turned to watch the road again.

“Yeah,” I said, “as long as they don’t play enka.”

In the mirror, Kuroo’s eyes smiled as he turned the music up.

“We could sing!”, Yamato clapped his hands energetically, “ _Makenaide mou sukoshi, saigou made hashirinuketee!_ ”

“I don’t know…” I stumbled with a polite refusal through Yamato’s booming voice, not confident in my skills at all. If they insisted I sing along now, I was ready to get out and hitchhike back home. Fortunately, Kuroo read the air.

“This is not a bus of school children!” he interjected, cutting off the younger man, “And take off that cap, you look ridiculous wearing it inside the car.”

Yamato turned to his senpai with a somewhat hurt look and swiftly took the cap off, his head dipping in a series of embarrassed bows. He looked younger than his age and at that moment Kuroo seemed so much like a dad I almost snickered out loud.

Smirking, I pretended to be focused on something outside my window, letting the two men pick the best route to our destination. The singing aside, I was loving the sensation of excitement and anticipation that was a part of any school trip I’ve been to, unaware how I missed that feeling until it unexpectedly reemerged after so many years.

* * *

Mr. Sato’s family stemmed from outskirts of Hiratsuka, a coastal town near Tokyo. It took us an hour and a half to get to the old, traditional house which was already open and ready for visitors. Judging by the cars parked in front, most coaches were already ahead of us, chilling on a wooden veranda, fanning themselves and lazily eating watermelon while a subtle radio tune flowed from behind the sliding glass door.

Mr. Sato came out to greet us, tanned by the sun, resembling a local fisherman with legs of his track suit rolled up and a scruffy straw hat on his head. There was a gleam of pride in eyes of the host as he leaned in through the open door of our car.

“Welcome to my humble castle,” he smiled and presented the house with a sweep of his hand. It had clearly seen better days, but it was still charming, just like its owner. “Cold drinks are in the fridge,” he winked, indicating he didn’t mean only juices.

He focused on Yamato and me, who were taking in the sight of the big, two-floor structure behind Mr. Sato’s back, seeing it for the first time, “Make yourselves at home.”

“We brought some snacks and drinks too,” Kuroo had already taken a crate of bags and bottles from the trunk and was carrying it inside, knowing his way in. I spotted Hanako and waved at her, but at that moment she seemed to be too distracted by straining biceps of Kuroo’s arms to notice me. Then she got up, came over and hugged me.

“So glad you made it!” her smile was pure sunshine, “This will be great, you’ll see. We’ll start preparing BBQ when it is cooler so go ahead and have some watermelon to fill your stomach until the evening.”

“Now that you’re here,” one of the coaches called out to Yamato who was carrying bags from the car, following his sempai’s example, “we can go to beach and play some volleyball. I’ve got a score to settle with you.” The challenge made Yamato’s face instantly bloom in a predatory grin.

“In this sun?” I asked Hanako incredulously, but she ignored me, shouting with a fierce smile on her face, “The beach, the beach!”

Other women chimed in merrily and I had no other choice but to get my bathing suit ready. I looked around but could not find any trace of the club secretary. Surely, she must have been invited. As I went inside to change, I casually asked one of the female coaches that also came along,

“Will Tamako chan be able to find us when she comes?” I stepped out of my shorts.

“Oh, she is not coming this year,” the other woman replied while applying copious amounts of sunblock on her alabaster skin. Being tanned was not really a fashion trend among young women these days. “She is celebrating Obon in her boyfriend’s home village.”

“Oh, I didn’t know…” I mumbled, trying to sound disinterested as I took off my shirt too. So she and Kuroo were definitely not an item anymore. Suddenly, as I spotted my reflection in a mirror, I became hyper conscious of my body. Sneaking a peek at the female coach who was smearing sunblock across her firm thighs, I outright panicked. I, an office worker, was about to flaunt my figure in front of all these people who were professionally or recreationally engaged in a strenuous physical activity. This one here had defined abs, for heaven’s sake!

Unfortunately, there was no going back now. The beach was only a short walk away from the house and I could not avoid it. I took my time in adjusting the bathing suit, now that suddenly everything about it seemed to fit wrong, and eventually came out into the sun.

I knew men would check me out, just like they would take a good long look at every other female that trotted in front of them in a scant outfit. But now I had to admit there was only one pair of eyes whose judgment concerned me. However, I was too timid to openly check his reaction. I didn’t think I could handle any criticism from Kuroo because it would justify my deep, dark fear that he was really just looking down on me.

The men were already gathered outside with balls and water bottles, eager to compete against each other so when the women finally joined them, at least I could hide in the crowd. Unfortunately, that also meant I could be conveniently compared to their athletic bodies. When one of them called for help with carrying a big parasol, I was more than happy to respond, positioning myself as the last girl of three who carried the long pole. Mr. Sato was the only one who stayed behind, more than happy to rest in front of a TV for a while, muttering how wonderful the youth was.

The beach was a long stretch of dark sand lapped by slow but tireless waves of Sagami Bay. In the distance, through shimmering of boiling air, a giant cone silhouette of Mt Fuji overlooked the area. I was stunned by the unexpected beauty of the sight.. After we chose a spot next to a strung beach volleyball net and put the parasol up, the women flocked under its shade. Someone produced a whistle and one of the coaches who served as a referee borrowed Yamato’s baseball cap to protect his eyes from the glare. The rest of the guys randomly split in teams of two, making the competition more interesting.

It became clear to me why the girls insisted on going to the beach; it was not for swimming or sunbathing. When the men started warming up and stretching, taking off excess clothes and getting fired up, the mystery was solved. I had no idea where they stored the energy to jump and run across the hot sand in the sun, but as soon as the first bout began, it seemed like the elements couldn’t touch them at all. I had to admit it was an inviting sight, seeing their bodies move and strain, struggling to be effective on a terrain that didn’t suit them. Seeing the familiar faces outside the known context gave me the impression of a parallel world, where I too was a different person and our lives in Tokyo belonged to different people.

With such eyes, out of context, I could look at Kuroo and try to see a man unbound by circumstances that surrounded us. I could meet him anew. I remembered what happened the last time we all met out of context at hanami and my eyes inadvertently sought out Hanako. She was sipping her drink and chatting away, her eyes sharply fixed on the players.

I didn’t want to follow her gaze and confirm who captured her interest.

When his turn came up, Kuroo took off the T-shirt he drove in and stretched as he crossed the laid line of the playing court. His lean build only accentuated his height, the lanky arms and long torso knotting with wiry muscles while he flexed and relaxed them. Giving a smooth high five to his partner, who was even taller than Kuroo was, they exchanged a few quiet words about their strategy.

Not to be outdone, on the other side of the net Yamato threw his tank top carelessly into the sand outside the clearance area. He bumped fists with his teammate, getting hyped, and I couldn’t help noticing the bulging muscles of his arm and back glistening in the sun, already covered by a layer of sweat. The young man tried a few test jumps for the warm up, bringing his knees up to his chest, the expression on his face clearly indicating he was not happy with having to rely on such a treacherous surface. After all, the spiker needed to soar as high as he could to score.

His eyes locked with Kuroo’s through the net, all four men exchanging amicable chitchat, but there was a change in Yamato’s gaze. A daring shine that wasn’t there before. He was not looking at his sempai anymore, he was looking at an opponent.

The half-smirk on Kuroo’s face indicated he was aware of the challenge, welcoming the starting whistle with sharp, narrowed eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The featured song that Yamato sings is 負けないで by ZARD


	6. August II

Chapter 6

_August_

After a whistle, the game started with a fast pace dissipating the laziness of a summer day in an instant.

Finally, knowing he was distracted, I dared to openly ogle Kuroo’s figure. After all, this player before me was not the hard-to-read Tokyo coach I helped out from time to time; this was an athlete playing volleyball on some unknown beach and I was a mere onlooker. Right.

Lean and sleek, Kuroo compensated for speed with his lanky reach and experience. With only two players covering one half of the court, all four men had their hands full. Slacking off was impossible and mistakes were swiftly punished as Kuroo’s team learned as soon as they allowed Yamato a clean shot across the net. The projectile was unstoppable, making both men dive to the ground in vain. As he got up, sticky with sand, I clearly saw vengeful shine in Kuroo’s narrow eyes despite the dismissive smile he put on.

The young spiker seemed to be completely unaware of it, just as he was unaware of sweat that trickled down his skin or of the glaring sunlight. The match made the world simple; only allies and opponents existed - and the ball. It flew rapidly from one player to another like a spooked bird, followed by players’ shouts and cheers from the crowd.

Slowly, other people approached to take in the spectacle and I couldn’t help resenting the giggling bikini clad girls that conspiratorially whispered while eyeing our coaches. I bet they barely knew what this sport was called, but that didn’t prevent them from following each move closely. _Too_ closely.

Neither team relented, putting up a fight for every point. This was the first time I saw any of our staff members play and I was impressed. Even though playing on sand was not their forte, the skill and tenacity they displayed impressed.

Yamato was putting in all he had with seriousness of a professional and Kuroo’s spiteful nature wouldn’t allow to let the young man have it his way. I could guess that Yamato, as the youngest coach, was very motivated to prove his worth in front of his seniors but Kuroo was not letting him shine without a fight. Every time the spiker jumped, like a shadow Kuroo was in the air with him, his long hands blocking the clear path for scoring. But Yamato gave as good as he got and loudly celebrated every time he spoiled the other team’s plans. Although they spat out sand after every dive and landed awkwardly after every jump, they were all clearly having fun.

Neither tandem was dominating so the game stretched on. The fatigue was taking its toll and their movements were becoming sluggish and reactions slower, but their pride burned as hot as the sun, egging them on. Panting, they kept their squinting eyes on the ball and made their bodies move, again and again, until Yamato’s partner yelped in agony after a jump.

Couple of coaches ran up to the man who was clutching his ankle.

“Bad landing,” I heard one of the girls comment with a pained expression on her face, the others around her knowingly nodding in empathy. More coaches gathered on the field, carrying water and towels.

“What’s the score?” I turned from the commotion to Hanako who was fixing her hair. Apparently, a few handsome faces were among the curious onlookers and she seemed to have a sixth sense about that sort of thing.

“It’s a tie,” she smiled giving me a mock-reproving look, “Aren’t you the stats collector?”

I shrugged my shoulders in apology, having nothing to say in my defense. At that moment, the realization hit me; the truth was, I wasn’t watching the game. I was watching Kuroo. Instead of keeping track of points and outs, I was concentrated on the way muscles of his thighs in shorts flexed when he jumped and the way his arms seemed to appear in the right places at the right moments, how his back stretched and his shoulders rippled when he spiked the ball and how his crazy hair didn’t relinquish its salute even when drenched in sweat. But, most of all, it was his expression that captivated me. The pace of the game didn’t allow him to keep his guarded look on so the genuine emotions of frustration and elation showed on his face. It felt like peeking inside a secret world.

“Oi,”one of the onlookers called out and stepped closer with couple of companions. All were young men and, by their tanned appearance, seemed to be locals who were spending great portion of their free time on the beach. At least, they all had surfers’ builds. Their smiles seemed radiant in contrast to their skin.

“How about a match?”

Our crew turned eyes to Yamato’s partner who was still sitting on the ground, a wet towel wrapped around his foot. He waved his hand dismissively, “Just go ahead, I am done with playing for today.”

Others helped him hop outside the boundaries and two of the locals came forth to claim half of the court. The referee, the whistle in his mouth, looked at our coaches questioningly. Kuroo, wiping his face with a towel, made eye contact with Yamato who was resting in the sand, exhausted. The two former opponents seemed to understand each other without words, an alliance forming in an instance. Obviously, the others also noted their intentions.

“Hey, Kuroo, aren’t you done?” someone’s incredulous voice followed the two players inside the court boundaries.

“I still didn’t win, or lose,” Kuroo shot back with a defiant grin, prompting Yamato’s smug smile. The spiker rotated his powerful shoulders to release the tension as he faced his opponents across the net. The boys obviously wanted to teach the locals a lesson. They were an established club coaches, after all.

* * *

In the end, Kuroo and Yamato lost, in two short sets, against the local team, as did all other Tokyo coaches who stepped up. The familiarity with the terrain outweighed all advantages the Tokyoites had going for them and when the relief of evening finally came, the local victors got invited to barbeque at Mr. Sato’s.

Fortunately, they seemed like a friendly and easygoing bunch so it was hard to resent their fairly won victories. In fact, they were so fun that Hanako and a few other girls drove to town with them to get ingredients for dinner, even though there was plenty of food in the house already. As the others were busy with showering and recuperating from the sun, no one really minded the excursion that delayed eating. The night was long and warm and grilled meat quickly prepared.

I got changed and got out on the veranda again, noticing Kuroo wasn’t among the people lounging there. Since I wasn’t in the mood for Mr. Sato’s reminiscing – or at least I told myself that was the reason why I retraced my steps to the beach – I slipped away into the evening.

In dusk, looking out at the endless horizon, Kuroo trademark hairdo was still distinguishable near the shoreline. He had put his shirt back on and was sitting on the sand with his feet within the reach of waves. Every now and then water would spill out and foam around his ankles.

“Is everything alright?” I announced my presence and Kuroo only inclined his head in my direction, like he wasn’t surprised to hear me joining him.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “Playing barefoot on hot sand was not the smartest thing to do.”

“Oh,” I sat next to him, peering at his feet with concern, “Can I bring you something?”

Leaning back on his arms, he shook his head, “Nah, I’ll be fine. The water is cool and by the lack of smoke I can tell that dinner is not ready yet so I might as well wait here.”

“Makes sense,“ I commented just to avoid the silence which inevitably came. I lingered for another moment and then started to get up, “If you need any…”

“I don’t mind you staying,” he interjected, turning a slant glance at me, “If you don’t have anything else to do. The water is cool foe everyone.”

“Okay,” I nodded, slipped the flip-flops off my feet and stretched my legs. He was right, the ocean was soothing, unlike the sand that still conserved the day’s heat. “This really is good.”

“Told ya.” Kuroo grinned and stared at the distance. The waves came and went, whispering and rolling sand between our toes, tickling and massaging the skin. It was a strangely intimate moment and I didn’t want to interrupt it by saying something that would ruin it.

“Will you be joining us again in September?” It was Kuroo who started the conversation.

“I should be able to make it,” I said and inwardly rebuked myself for sounding so non-committal.

Kuroo must have noticed the vagueness of my reply because he added, “The boys are counting on you, but no pressure.” There was a provocative undertone in his smile, “Disappointment is a part of life they need to learn to deal with.”

“Uf, don’t make it sound so dramatic,” I sighed, playfully splashing water around with my foot, “Of course I will be there.”

“Good,” this time he sounded like he meant it, “Ending of the season will be difficult. We have several hard matches ahead of us. And preparation for the Sports day.”

Warmness filled my chest when I heard Kuroo had also me in mind when he thought about his team. I kept looking out at the ocean and the line between sky and water that was blurring as the night fell. If I closed my eyes, it felt like the whole world was moving back and forth like the waves, and we were floating in some undefined space, outside time. He was next to me, close enough to touch, his voice was clear, unlike indistinguishable clamor from behind us.

A flash of sakura strewn waters from our hanami meeting came to my mind, with this man standing next to me, looking out at the rowing boats.

_“Would you like to go for a boat ride?”_

“As crazy as it may sound,” I said in a quieter voice, unsure if I should continue, “I am starting to miss the smelly gyms and the tense games.”

From the corner of my eye I noticed Kuroo turn his head towards me, so I continued louder, “I mean this paradise beach is fine but it just doesn’t have the ridiculous stress of a high-school volleyball match.”

He snickered, “Actually I am glad you said that.”

Now it was my turn to look at him, a sensation of suspicion creeping up inside me, “What do you mean?”

He sucked in breath between his teeth before continuing, like he was reluctant to begin an unpleasant task, “Actually, I had been meaning to ask you to sacrifice some more of your precious free time and join us on at least one training session per week.”

“Oh, that’s…” I started to say but he continued, concentrated on the horizon.

“Yamato kun will be getting his own team to coach so he won’t be able to assist me every time and I could really use a helping hand. Just for the simple stuff; making sure everyone’s accounted for, informed about the meetings, there on time, that sort of thing.”

“And for keeping stats?” I asked flatly. Was I only an exploitable pawn in his eyes? Was I not making Hanako’s mistake, wishing to see something that wasn’t there?

“And for keeping stats,” Kuroo repeated with a grin. In dusk, his eyes seemed dark and deep. Or lurking. “Mr. Sato suggested you and I couldn’t go against my senpai’s wishes.”

“Are you sure you are not looking for a secretary?” the words that left my mouth astounded even me but it was too late to take them back.

Kuroo wore the grin for a second longer, then his face re-arranged into an expression between confusion and an attempt to compose himself. I was ready to apologize, after all he didn’t force me into anything and there were more polite ways to refuse something I didn’t want to do, but then he said in a low voice,

“Oh, _that,”_ he sighed and shook his head, “That was a fucking disaster.”

Disregarding my still open mouth and widening eyes, he explained, “We had booked a traditional ryokan during the May golden week. Last minute accommodation in that season, it had cost an arm and a leg. The trip there was terrible because she wanted to take a train and I wanted to drive. She smokes and I don’t. And, instead of a wild and romantic week, by the end we were hardly even speaking to each other. I don’t know what I was thinking, doing something like that with a total stranger.

He paused for a moment, then pointedly added in a dry tone, “I don’t usually do that kind of thing.”

It did make sense, Kuroo always struck me as far too cautious for casual flings but, on the other hand, that was just what he did do, before my eyes at the hanami party.

“Seducing coworkers?” I tried a provocative joke to soften the seriousness this conversation suddenly obtained. The truth was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear a sincere reply to my question.

“Making rash decisions,” Kuroo continued in a stern voice, ignoring my jab, “Acting without thinking.”

I opened my mouth to follow up with a witty reply, but instead I changed my mind and said quietly, “The break up must have been really hard on you, then.”

Kuroo’s brow twisted in a slight but still noticeable way, a micro gesture that he couldn’t mask, so I hastily explained, “I mean, I remember seeing you with your ex at the shinnenkai party and people tend to do crazy things when they are single again after a long time just to prove they are still...”

Somehow my clumsy attempt was only making it sound worse so I let my voice trail off.

For a long moment nobody said a word and only waves counted the passage of time. I felt my skin prick in a growing anxiety; I should not have said that, we never discussed our personal lives or our pasts, we were spending time together to watch some kids play volleyball and that was it, I have irrevocably crossed the line.

“Yeah, I guess,” Kuroo eventually said. His voice sounded like it came from a distance, reminding me of the hanami scene by the lake, seeming like he wasn’t talking to me, not really.

Then, through thickening darkness, I saw his head slowly turn back in my direction.

“It hurt like nothing before, but it had to be that way, I had to leave,” without a doubt, this was clearly intended for me to hear and I knew he wasn’t talking about the fling with the club secretary. The confession was so uncharacteristically frank that I felt a weight of what Kuroo just shared with me, “Sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, knowing all too well what he meant. For a while only waves murmured their songs.

“You didn’t feel like doing something … rash … after your break up? Just to heal the wounds?”

Now it was my turn to compose myself before shock showed on my face. Probably noticing my incredulous look, he explained, “Hanako told me about it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“R-rash? Like what?” In no position to protest the taste my own medicine, I mumbled to buy some time while my mind desperately tried to work out how could my ex ever have come to be a topic between my friend and Kuroo. Did she tell him or did he ask?

“I don’t know,” Kuroo shrugged, his eyes inspecting my face closely, “maybe like Yamato kun?”

There was no teasing in his voice though, he was asking like he was genuinely interested, “The guy is practically begging for your attention.”

“Yamato kun?” suddenly the ocean at my feet started feeling cold and uninviting, so I drew my knees under my chin. “He is just a nice, energetic kid.”

“He is no kid,” Kuroo said matter-of-factly. Then, after getting no reaction from me, he asked, “Or maybe you don’t think that mixing club and private activities would be a good idea?”

I hugged my knees, wondering if I was having a casual conversation with an acquaintance or was I alone on a dark beach with an attractive man who was asking all sorts of ambiguous questions. What part of reality did correspond with what I wanted to be real?

“Well, do you think that would be a good idea?” I answered with a question of my own, tossing the ball back to him. But before he replied, somebody’s voice called out to us.

“Dinner!”

And really, the light breeze carried an unmistakable aroma of grilled meat, I was just too distracted to pay it any heed. I panicked, suddenly aware that Hanako and the others must have returned and that she might catch me sitting here. Even though I told myself that her flirting with the local youth meant she couldn’t care less about what happened with Kuroo, there was a cautious voice in me whispering a warning. I just didn’t want her to misunderstand. Right.

“Coming!” I shouted back for the both of us, getting up nimbly and dusting off my behind.

“The game is about to start too!” this time it was Yamato’s voice that boomed from the direction of the house.

“Game, what game?” I asked Kuroo, who was walking next to me, cautiously picking each step and still feeling the consequences of today’s fun on the hot sand.

He snickered, like it was common knowledge. Among these people, it probably was, “Volleyball, what else?”

“You’re kidding,” I commented flatly, making him laugh and after a moment I too joined, glad that the atmosphere of the strange conversation we shared dissipated. 

* * *

Mr. Sato’s guests opened all sliding doors so some watched the game from the room while others chose to lounge in the fresh air on the veranda, nibbling on the tasty dinner. The lights inevitably drew in an army of moths and bugs from the outside, but they were a part of summer just like the sound of cicadas, so we endured them with our eyes glued to the TV screen. The live broadcast of a volleyball match in which Bokuto’s team fought to enter the semi-finals was so tense, I don’t think we would have noticed even if an eagle landed among us.

Yamato was practically ready to jump into the TV set, his heart and soul already there on the court with his idol.

“It is Bokuto san’s serve,” he mumbled under his breath to no one in particular, ceasing to breathe while the camera zoomed in on the golden eyed man who was concentrating on his next move. Swiftly he threw the ball high in the air and jumped up after it, projecting it across the net with the might of a cannonball. The receiver on the other side messed up and cost his team a point. In the corner of the screen, serve speed flashed at 115 kmh. 

“Nice one!” Yamato and some others exclaimed with a jump as the camera focused on Bokuto’s content smile. He beamed while people in the stands chanted his name, openly relishing every ounce of attention. He was the star, no doubt about it. Watching him now, it was hard to superimpose this larger than life figure with the clueless klutz I had met.

“The show-off ,” Kuroo’s displeased grumble came from the veranda, just behind the line a light bulb drew on the worn out wooden floor and behind my back, somewhere close by. I didn’t fail to notice he kept hanging around me after we returned, just like I didn’t fail to notice that Hanako conveniently disappeared with one of the local boys. I guess that surfer guy was a bigger fan of volleyball coaches than of volleyball.

A fuzzy feeling came over me, as I felt every piece conveniently fall in its place. I sucked on a watermelon slice, melting into its cool sweetness. Yes, everything was just as it was supposed to be, even if it was just for today.

* * *

Eventually, it was me who drove back to Tokyo in the morning because my companions were too sore to even put their shoes on, much to snickering delight of the locals whose hardened soles didn’t suffer the same fate.

Hanako, who crept back in the girls’ bedroom who-knows-when, was still sleeping soundly when we left. Kuroo had obligations in the city so we couldn’t afford to lounge by the sea too long despite the inviting weather. So we packed up, thanked Mr. Sato for his hospitality and drove away.

It seemed that younger coaches also stayed up late, playing games, drinking and talking, so Yamato soon dozed off in the back, lulled by sound of car engine.

“He is out cold,” Kuroo sighed while he inspected the sleeping man, almost like he envied him, “Ah, the careless youth.”

“It’s not like you’re _that_ older than him,” I snorted, keeping my eyes on the road.

“Age is not about the years,” he said in tone of an old sage, “it’s about the experience.”

It took me a moment to realize he was dead serious, so I started to quietly laugh to let Yamato kun sleep. He didn’t even stir.

Kuroo said in a low voice, “I am not wrong, you know.”

“Ok, not completely wrong, “I consented, “But I though you said he was no kid.”

Kuroo sighed heavily and prepared to reply, when he noticed my teasing smile. So instead he just shook his head in a helpless gesture and resumed looking out of his window, a pale smile etched on his lips. With his chin resting on his palm and his elbow on a car door, he watched the scenery go by for a while.

“How about we make a stop there?” Kuroo commented a sign we passed that announced a rest area, “I could use a coffee and something sweet.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “Didn’t you say you had things to do in Tokyo?”

“Nothing that couldn’t wait for half an hour longer,” he said, still impassively looking through the window, his words coming out a bit muffled by the back of his palm. I felt my heart race. Was I getting ahead of myself or was he really just craving some caffeine and sugar?

“You can barely walk,” I gently remarked, not venturing an eye contact either. I didn’t want to dissuade him but I recalled how gingerly he had walked to the car in his flip-flops. Every step must have hurt like hell.

“I am ready to suffer for a good cup of coffee,” he gave me a half-grin and since I could use coffee myself, having been offered only tea by Mr. Sato, I turned the steering wheel and parked in front of a restaurant.

“Good, a shade,” Kuroo opened the door and got carefully out, “Leave the windows open. He won’t even know we were gone.”

“What? You want to leave Yamato kun in the car?” I got out, reluctant to follow Kuroo’s plan. He stooped to look at me through the car window with hooded eyes.

“Does he seem like he could use a coffee or a good nap?” he asked in that indulgent tone of his that implied the very question had been redundant.

I closed the door, deciding not to lock the car, “I still feel guilty about it. He won’t get any cake…”

“I’ll get us all cakes!” Kuroo hopped towards the restaurant and halted, opening the door for me, “Just let me have my coffee.”

“Deal,” I smiled, passing him by, unwilling to believe that this fairytale will disappear once we were back home in our old roles again. It sure wasn’t easy being a Cinderella but I would still pick a day like this over all mixer dates I've had this summer.


	7. September / October

Chapter 7

_September_

The rainy season was still not giving way to ruddy colors of autumn when volleyball practices and league games started again. I was still trying to figure out whether, by having coffee and cake in a roadside restaurant, Kuroo and I had actually been on… well, maybe not on an actual date, but on something resembling a date so much I decided not to mention it to Hanako, anticipating she would definitely read too much into it. It seemed I have already been reading too much into it myself.

Besides, by photos on her social profiles, she and the guy from Hiratsuka were making the most of summer’s long days, posting cute selfies from beaches and famous Tokyo spots. She had invited me to join them now and then, but no one wants to be a third wheel in a budding romance. Instead, I used my free time to teach myself more about volleyball. Once I delved into the subject, I unveiled layer after layer of the sport, its tactics, mechanics and rules and, as I watched video after video of gameplay, wondered whether I was doing this to expand my own knowledge or was my motivation also multilayered.

Kuroo texted me the time of their first training session and, since I have promised to attend at least one weekly practice, I showed up at the club after work, still wearing my office clothes. The team was already there, tanned boys making ruckus and, even though it was only a month and a half since I last saw them, I could tell they have grown in the meantime. Well, grown physically, not matured, which was evident from their noisy antics in the gymnasium. They greeted my presence with loud hellos but did not line up the way they usually did when the head coach was present. They still were kids, after all.

“Hi,” I waved to Yamato who, with forms that needed filling out in hands, was having no success at all at restraining the unruly youths. From now on, he will have to deal with two teams and will have a busy schedule, “I guess Kuroo san is still not here.”

Yamato turned to me and halted for a second before shaking his head in a hasty reply. It took me a moment to realize what had caused his embarrassed gaze; he had never seen my business look.

“T-thank you for joining us,” he gave me a light bow, trying to avoid my eyes, the stutter betraying him, “I will t-try to come as of-ften as I can.”

“No problem,” I smiled at his formalities, wondering if he had also grown during the summer, “You will have your hands full with your team.”

“Y-yeah,” somehow Yamato didn’t seem too confident about his new challenges. The memory of when he made a wrong call by waiting for Kuroo which had almost cost them a game without a fight probably still haunted him. Especially since he got to be saved by a girl he was trying to impress.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be a great coach,” I tried to encourage him, “You have been playing for years and have a lot to teach them.”

He nodded, accepting the compliment reluctantly.

“Well, the changing room is over there”, he motioned with his hand, “The practice is about to start, so…” His eyes lingered on my outfit again and then it struck me he must be seeing me as some office lady, instead of a fellow teammate.

“I hope you have your running shoes with you,” a voice behind me turned both of our heads. “Late afternoon jogs are the best.”

Kuroo walked in with a grin, bathed in orange sunlight, the mop of his hair saluting unabashedly as he strode towards us. That was what it took for the boys to finally start lining up for a formal greeting.

“Running?” I turned from Kuroo to Yamato, panic in me rising, “No one said anything about running.”

“Well, we do have to get the players back in shape, don’t we?” Kuroo cocked his head, obtaining a more serious expression, “Outcome of a game may depend on stamina alone.”

“B-but…” it was now my turn to stutter. His logic was irrefutable and I _did_ agree to participate but he couldn’t expect me to run laps with high-schoolers, could he? Somewhere inside me an adamant resolution took shape – this was all fun while it lasted, but now I was leaving. I gripped the bag with my track suit in a white-knuckled clutch, preparing to apologize and take my leave without turning back.

Kuroo must have noticed a change in me because he started laughing and waving his hand dismissively, “Just a joke. Yamato will take the boys outside for a few warm-up laps as they seem to have an abundance of energy and we will prepare everything for the practice.”

I stared at him, simmering, but not so mad to miss the orbs of his narrow eyes making a quick once-over of my skirt and blouse combination. Was seeing a woman in a business attire so strange here? At least I felt more confident while being scrutinized wearing this than clad in a bathing suit.

“Well, it is nice seeing you again too,” I mumbled shooting him another dark look before stomping into the direction of changing rooms.

“Looking forward to working with you,” Kuroo chanted the phrase in a singsong voice that wasn’t completely taunting. Not completely.

And that was how training with our team began.

The boys were playing in a league so the matches began again right after the first week of school. With two games per week, which usually took place on Saturdays, I was seeing the entire team often enough.

Unfortunately, the boys couldn’t maintain their unblemished winning streak, but the victories we did get to celebrate with a dinner were that much more precious. I loved the unwinding away from lights and noisy crowds, fans and their expectations, fixation on scoring and winning, preferably in small, cozy places just big enough to sit the team.

As a rule, the coaches sat together so my spot between Yamato kun and Kuroo san was a given, provided the boys deserved a treat. Afterward, we would walk to a nearest train station, working out future strategies, teasing, joking. Also as a rule, Kuroo and I would linger in the back, while Yamato tend the front of the group, and those were the best moments.

When nothing else was expected from us after a fulfilling day other than to take a train home, we would relax and chat about anything that crossed our minds, walking side by side. This was when I learned that Kuroo was far from just an ex-volleyball-player-turned-to-coaching; he was smart and informed, had a good sense of humor, and made a very pleasant conversational partner when he wasn’t concerned with putting up the aloof front. The more time we spent like this, the less he tried to play the cool, unshakeable guy, or maybe I was getting better at reading him.

This was also when I realized it was not just a passing interest and that I was falling for this man with a ridiculous hairdo, despite the complications that spelled out. I didn’t want to make Hanako’s mistake but the more I got to know him, I became more drawn to Kuroo.

So when someone jokingly suggested to make use of a purikura machine we came upon on our way home, I didn’t have to be told twice. We bunched up into the booth together in all sorts of combinations, taking picture after picture, until the three staff members were alone for one photo shoot series. The striking of poses and goofing around reminded me of my teenage days when every time I went out with my friends a commemorative purikura memento was a must. Hanako and I made dozens of them back in the day.

It didn’t surprise me that Yamato wanted a print-out of our six colorful photos, but I was actually astounded that the cool and mature Kuroo obliged by stepping into the booth without a protest, posed and then took a print-out too. With my copy in hand, I smiled at the two men, feeling like a classmate of the boys in the team.

A mere year ago, I had asked Hanako why she was spending her free time in some volleyball club and now, when I looked at myself, I could only laugh at the irony. Hanako had at least once played volleyball whereas all I did was attend a shinnenkai and made a rash promise.

Now the six small touched-up photos stuck to my fridge were the first thing I saw in the morning and the last in the evening and wouldn’t want it to be any other way.

* * *

_October_

Even though our club was not school based, it went without saying that a sports club would commemorate the Sports Day. So, the tradition dictated that every second Monday in October the coaches organized presentation of all teams which was followed by Mr. Sato’s speech and a bountiful sushi dinner which was enjoyed by the kids and the parents alike.

This time I didn’t have to wonder whether I had been invited, because I received four separate invitations. One, formal, I got as a club member. One I got from Mr. Sato who asked me to help distribute folding chairs after the matches were over so his audience could comfortably listen to him give the talk in the gym. Knowing how much the old man was prone to digressions, I wholeheartedly supported the idea that the gathered people reclined though the ordeal and accepted his request.

The last two invitations, however, weren’t so simple to accept. One came from Kuroo who expected me to help him prepare the team for the formal parade and presentation they had to do. The other, unexpectedly, came from Hanako who asked for the same thing for her team.

When she called me for a girls’ night out, I didn’t expect it to end in a long walk during which she explained, in detail, why she and her summer boyfriend broke up and why the relationship had been doomed from the start. In truth, she was talking to hear herself speak and convince herself of validity of her words and I was just lending an ear.

I didn’t mind. I haven’t spent quality time with my friend for a while and when we finally depleted the topic of her summer affair, we continued to chat about all sort of girly stuff, stopping only to get hot drinks form a vending machine and taiyakis from a street vendor. I was thoroughly enjoying the get-together, until she mentioned she could use a helper with the Sports Day project.

“You know how the kids can be a handful when they have to learn new protocols,” like a kitten, Hanako licked at sweet red bean paste filling of her taiyaki, “But we have two more weeks so if you join us now, the four sessions should be enough.”

Since her group consisted of younger children, she held practices in an elementary school gym instead of in the club premises, two times a week. On the same days that Kuroo’s team met for their training sessions.

Of course Hanako was aware I was dropping in on Kuroo’s practices. Even if she wasn’t in the know, the huge sheet with club’s schedule was displayed in the coaches’ room for all to see and my name was added to Kuroo’s team by Mr. Sato’s hand.

This wasn’t only about the Sports Day ceremony; the forced carelessness of my friend was an open book to me. We knew each other too well. There was a part of me that got angry for being forced to choose, but another part understood she needed a validation of our bond especially after being single again.

“Sure,” I smiled and quickly bit into my taiyaki. Its hot filling burned my tongue.

* * *

Kuroo took the news that I would be absent from their practices for the next two weeks without a comment. Actually, his lack of reaction stung a little.

“I am sorry, but it can’t be helped,” I clumsily tried to meliorate the news while the team around us rushed about, putting things back in place in order to leave home as soon as possible. Trainings made them ravenous and none finished at a planned hour, usually extending into the evening just like this one had. “Hanako said she couldn’t manage by herself and asked me to assist.”

With his lips pressed in a thin line, the head coach just nodded. Not only were the boys underperforming lately, but now I felt like a kid who had disappointed her favorite teacher as the final blow.

“It’s only for two weeks,” I repeated, feeling even worse but feigning cheerfulness as Kuroo observed me silently, “Your team is all grown up and doesn’t need so much preparation anyway.”

“ _My_ team?” he finally asked in a deep, quiet voice, something on his face stirring.

I realized what I had said.

Maybe it was the halogen lighting in the gym, maybe he had a hard day at work, maybe it was tiredness of the late hour, but I don’t remember ever seeing Kuroo so dejected. None of my upbeat attempts were rubbing off on him.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just,” I shrugged, wanting to be anywhere else but here, “I am sure you can handle these things and Hanako wouldn’t ask for help if she didn’t really need it.”

I defended my friend even though I myself wasn’t completely sure what I claimed was true. But still, I have made a decision and now I had to stick to it.

“Alright, sure,” Kuroo pinched the base of his nose and frowned, like he was trying to concentrate through a headache. Then I remembered him commenting that he was coming down with something, which only made me feel even worse for pulling a disappearing act, “we will manage. You’re a volunteer and I shouldn’t rely so much on your efforts anyway. Thanks for the hard work so far.”

It sounded like he was reminding himself of my status and he was right, but his words somehow still hurt. I didn’t like the distance they put in between us but I guessed I deserved them.

“I will be joining you again after the Sports Day,” I said, getting ready to say goodbyes and depart, “I know that the match on the following day is a tricky one.”

Kuroo just watched me with glazed eyes and only then was I able to put aside my feelings of guilt and really look at him. He was pale, in stark contrast to his black hair and dark eyes, with a film of perspiration on his skin that didn’t seem like sweat he worked up while practicing.

“Are you alright?”

“I think I may be running a fever,” he stated without really replying to my question. It was the old Kuroo again, talking about the objective to avoid the subjective, “The sooner we wrap things up here, the better.”

His voice was collected as usual, but I could tell he was straining to play the part of the reliable pillar and my announcement certainly didn’t make things any simpler for him. Since I was a part of the problem and not of the solution, I left the gym with a gnawing unease. But, what was done, was done.

* * *

The feeling of guilt persisted while I was struggling to keep Hanako’s kids in line. Going through the same routine again and again, so Hanako could trot them out before the gathered crowd was definitely less stressful than preparing for a decisive match . I understood that PR was crucial in a privately financed club and that proud and content adults meant more donations and memberships, but I couldn’t help the notion that I should be somewhere else.

I was keenly aware that across the town, at that very moment, _my_ team was practicing without me. Did Yamato find some free time to assist? Will the boys gain enough confidence to face the difficult opponent? Was Kuroo angry with me?

It got so bad that I couldn’t look at the photos on my fridge anymore, feeling Kuroo’s and Yamato’s eyes on me like a pointed finger.

About a week before the Sports Day I heard that Kuroo stayed home with flu and that he arranged for an old acquaintance to take over the training sessions in his absence. This couldn’t have happened at the worst time, since now the boys have been left on their own both for the ceremony and for the match.

At last, when my conscience couldn’t handle it any longer, I called Hanako before the last session.

“I have to check up on them,” I explained as I briskly walked towards the train station. This time I would take the line that will take me to the club and no amount of kiddies who needed to learn the club recitals could dissuade me. “I cannot let some stranger take on this responsibility.”

“Hai, hai,“ Hanako’s sighed on the other end, than added after a pause, “Kuroo san won’t be there, you know?”

There was something in her voice, something I did not appreciate at all. Of course I knew, I was not rushing off to see him. My team needed me.

* * *

A serious looking young man who introduced himself as ‘Akaashi’ bowed curtly when I entered the gymnasium and explained who I was. Even before he said it, I could guess from his height that he was probably also a former volleyball player.

“Nice to meet you,” Akaashi said in a measured voice, his eyes inspecting me though thin-rimmed glasses, “Kuroo san has mentioned you and I wondered if I would have the opportunity to make your acquaintance before the game.”

“Thank you for responding to this unfortunate situation on such a short notice,” I bowed deeply, in reality apologizing to Kuroo, Yamato and the boys.

Akaashi struck me as a formality-loving, no-nonsense type – in other words, the type that one does not warm up to easily – and the atmosphere on the court reflected that. Everyone did what they were told but no one joked, laughed or grumbled when things didn’t go as they had planned. The environment was sterile and unnatural and did not generate positive, confident feelings. The boys eyed Mr. Akaashi with a detached respect, but their fervor was gone and, despite their tall statures, they seemed like lost, confused puppies to me.

This, however, started to change when they saw me chatting with their temporary coach and soon the training session started resembling the ones the boys were used to. I guessed that it wasn’t easy for the newcomer to gain trust of the team in such a short time and I felt sorry for burdening this innocent man with unnecessary hardship. If I had been here with him from the start, the training sessions would probably not turn to boot camps.

Akaashi seemed to be aware of this too, so when he appointed tasks, he leaned in closer to me.

“The team is well trained and connected,“ he said in a quiet, flat voice, “and I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kuroo san’s disciples. They can do this. But I can only direct them when it comes to technicalities. For them to really put their hearts into it, they need to see one of their own on the bench.”

As I just blinked at him, unable to accept that my presence anywhere could be so crucial, Akaashi patiently elaborated, “I may formally take the place of the coach but you are the one they think of as a part of the team… I assume you made plans to attend the match on Thursday…”

“Yes, of course,” I gave him an assuring smile, however there was not a trace of humor on his features as he nodded his head.

“Good,” his eyes unfocused, as his mind turned to strategizing again. I could only guess what went on in his head so instead I turned to the court with the widest smile I could muster and gave the boys thumbs up. The ones that noticed me responded in kind, the relief in their body language palpable.

* * *

The Sports Day ceremony went according to plans, Mr. Sato’s speech didn’t put anyone to sleep and Hanako’s kids didn’t blunder when they presented their team. Kuroo was still absent so I took it upon myself to coordinate our boys, only waving a dismissive hand at young Yamato’s expressions of regret that he couldn’t be in charge of both his and Kuroo’s team for the ceremony.

It was alright, I got this. After I realized that the boys actually preferred me carrying the sign with the team’s name, I stepped up readily to line up before the gathered club supporters, knowing my team was following right behind me. It was a touching, hear-warming experience and I relished in it for the time being, trying not to think about tomorrow’s game.

But tomorrow came all too soon and I was more than happy to let Akaashi san handle the formalities and credentials while I concentrated on making sure the players had everything they needed. As I gave one of them a nail file form my purse for some last minute nail maintenance, I said a little silent prayer to calm myself. Being an anonymous spectator was one thing, but being on the coaches’ bench, exposed and in plain sight, was more unnerving that I imagined. On top of that, I couldn’t let my nervousness show.

The importance of this game was discernible from a sheer number of spectators that attended and I could keep my cool only by concentrating on the small things before me that needed my immediate attention. The vastness of the crowd, their movements and noises overwhelmed me.

Fortunately, none of this seemed to affect Akaashi whose cool demeanor seemed impenetrable. I wish I had his nerves of steel. After he saw my hands tremble, he sat next to me for a moment and, bless him, smiled, “Your first time in front of full stands?”

I gave him a wide eyed stare, only then noticing a sense of anticipation and thrill that emanated beneath his composed look.

“It’s something one can easily get addicted to,” he uttered the most unexpected statement from someone like him before getting up to shake hands with the other team’s coach.

After Akaashi gathered the team to fill them in on last tactics advices, I used the opportunity while all were still forming a tight circle.

“This one is for Kuroo senpai,” I said, my shaky female voice so out of place in the background of the roaring crowd, but it seemed to get through to them because they spontaneously extended their hands towards the center and repeated, “For Kuroo senpai!”

Then they dispersed, jumping and windmilling their long hands, eager to hear the kick off whistle. Akaashi gave me a nod of approval and turned his focus to the court. The game was about the start.

* * *

I forgot all about the crowd and their attention during the very first set, often catching myself with my arms raised in gestures of triumph or protest, on my feet, my voice hoarse from straining. To be honest, the collective power of the crowd was equally to blame as was the game itself for making me lose myself so readily. It was electrifying.

Akaashi did his best and instructed the boys like they were his own team, referring to them by their numbers instead of names because the time he had with them was too short to remember them all, but the players didn’t seem to mind and followed his advices eagerly. I was no expert, but it sounded to me like this temporary coach really knew his volleyball. I wondered if he was one of Kuroo’s teammates back in high-school.

“No,” was Akaashi’s bland reply, his quick eyes never leaving the court, “I played for Fukurodani high, in Bokuto san’s generation.”

“Oh,“ was all I could think of to say, unable to imagine two more different people on the same team. The team that triumphed over Kuroo’s own. Volleyball sure was a strange sport.

“Yes, he is a handful,” Akaashi continued in the same detached tone, like he had been reading my thoughts. It was embarrassing but at least, with his attention elsewhere, he couldn’t see me blush, ”but he is well worth the effort.”

Remembering Bokuto play in the professional league game I saw last summer, I had to agree. In the end, everything came with a price. I just hoped that the price of my decision to aid Hanako would not set back our team and my relationship with Kuroo.

* * *

The boys fought tooth and nail and managed a narrow victory in a game so tense it must have shaved a year off my life. In the end, as they finally managed to score the winning point, even Akaashi exploded in a triumphant outcry. The other team hung their heads in exhaustion and defeat while we rain into a group hug, celebrating the hard won prize. I had no idea what time it was or how long the game had lasted. I was not hungry, thirsty or tired, I just wanted to get drunk on this elation and take in the roaring of the crowd. It was our energy to harvest, our wave to ride.

Akaashi nodded at me in congratulations, a smile that wouldn’t be suppressed stretching his lips.

“This sure brings back memories,” he said in an emotional, nostalgic tone and felt I could kiss the man right there.

I seized the moment when everybody was bunched up to take a picture of their sweat drenched, beaming faces.

_(WE WON!!!)_

I sent the photo of the team to Kuroo, hoping he was awake to see it. It was the first contact with him since I last saw him and I wasn’t sure how he would react.

_(Why aren’t you in the picture too?)_

He wrote back after a moment, so I gave the phone to Akaashi and asked him to take the picture of the entire team. He obliged and soon another photo was sent Kuroo’s way.

_(I am sorry, I didn’t note the stats)_

I texted below the picture, burning with the urge to call him, hear his voice, share this mix of emotions with him.

_(All is well, I did)_

_(The game was broadcasted live on a sport channel)_

Oh.

I stared at his text dumbfounded, hoping that camera didn’t catch me hopping around and shouting like a madwoman, as his next text came

_(I didn’t know you could manage such an impressive vertical jump)_

_(We could use that in training :)_ _)_

The smiley face he inserted melted something in my heart. I sat down on the bench, ignoring the cheers and hoots around me.

_(I thought you were supposed to be sick (?) ˃:I )_

I wrote back, feeling like I was talking to the man I knew again. I had missed him more than I realized, wishing he could join us in celebrations.

_(You do know that the club coaches are paying for victory dinners, right?)_

_(After such an exhausting game, I think the boys deserve to be treated to a juicy katsudon)_

_(Itadakimasu! :)_ _)_

He typed and I could see the smug grin on his face. Yeah, it was definitely the old Kuroo.

_(Maybe you stayed home on purpose?)_

I jabbed him just to get a prompt reply,

_(Maybe? Who knows? ;) )_

I guess that meant everything was fine between us, after all. In a way, that made just as happy as the victory did.


	8. November

Chapter 8

_November_

I learned to appreciate that no matter how cold it got and how many layers of clothes the outside chill made us put on, when we got into the gym and the practice started, Kuroo would be in his jersey, displaying the well-built figure while he assisted and instructed the boys.

By then, I had already admitted I had a crush. Well, admitted to myself because I couldn’t really confide in Hanako without risking actually hearing what she thought about me fancying her former love interest. I hoped that she had already forgotten all about her unfortunate attempt from this Spring as we never mentioned it again, but there was always this strange coldness in her voice when she referred to me helping out the senior team as to the main reason the two of us didn’t really see so much of each other anymore.

The truth was, even when we were together, it just wasn’t the same. It made me sad and scared because I have known Hanako since high-school and never imagined that our bond could just… morph into something I didn’t recognize anymore. I didn’t want this, but I couldn’t deny how I felt. I didn’t even have the courage to address the subject with her, in fear what I might hear. Or say.

Instead, I worked at the office and spent my free time either with the team or daydreaming about the head coach. Being close to Kuroo certainly didn’t discourage the latter, as the more time I spent close to him, the more things I started to like about him. His intelligence, his temper, the way he narrowed his eyes when under pressure, the way things got to him even though he didn’t let it show. Even his silly rooster hair. He was not the type one could fall for at the first sight, but once I started looking forward to his dry humor and insightful advices masked by edgy remarks, I knew I was in deep.

Sitting on a bench beside him and looking at his profile, or while we shared meals with the team, or when we were going through the preparations for a game, always so close I felt like an impostor sneaking in his personal space with a clipboard as my disguise, sometimes his eyes would focus on me and then I could swear his stream of thoughts shifted too. For a brief moment volleyball would not be the thing on his mind, or at least it seemed so to me, making me avert my gaze no matter how hard I tried to play it cool, suddenly self-conscious and angry with myself.

He made the butterflies my belly flutter, damn him.

The worst thing was, I was not even sure if he would be totally against the idea of the two of us… what? Hooking up in a love hotel? Having a meaningful relationship? Renting a room in a ryokan and repeating the same mistake he made with the club’s secretary?

One thing was certain – I could not risk trying something and getting rejected. Unlike to what had happened with Hanako, it would be impossible for the two of us to continue working together like we did now. Not only did the team profit from our collaboration, if I quit the club, I would suddenly be left with a gaping hole in my life with only work and an empty apartment to come home to.

It was easy to pretend that days were not cold, short and rainy while were spending the Fall in a vast, well-lit gym with a bunch of boys relishing in a peak of their youth and, well, Mr. Forbidden Fruit.

Like an infatuated schoolgirl, when I arrived too early for a practice session I used the opportunity to pay a visit to the club office and check the member records. I found Kuroo’s form soon enough and, checking to see what was his sign and blood type (yeah, totally childish, but I _had_ to know) I almost yelped out loud when noticing his birthday was mere ten days away. I let my gaze linger on his inked signature _黒尾 鉄朗_ before putting the papers back in the drawer and tiptoeing to the gym, all jittery inside.

I wanted to make _something_ for his birthday, but doing it by myself seemed just too conspicuous so I decided to acquire accomplices. Fortunately, our volleyball team seemed like the perfect cover-up and I was willing to bet the boys would be more than happy to partake.

As fortune would have it, the team had training exactly on the coach’s birthday next week. I was not supposed to participate in that session, but I arranged to bring a cake several minutes after the start and enter the gym with all candles lit after one of the boys turned the lights off. At that hour in the afternoon it was already pitch dark outside, so the effect of small fires would be magical.

I didn’t believe that a whole team of teenage boys could keep a secret, but it turned out I had underestimated them and their intent to make a surprise party for their senpai. When the time came, I stood outside the cracked gym door, holding the chocolate cake and inhaling its sweetish aroma, my cold face warmed by tiny candles, while I waited for the cue. Soon enough, the big room was suddenly swallowed by thick darkness, so I took another moment for my eyes to adjust to the change and for all noise to die down before I used my foot to slowly open the door wide enough to slip inside.

As I took couple of blind steps towards the center of the court, strong male voices started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ from all around me, the singers invisible through the shroud of night. I didn’t sing, my nervous throat too tight for melody, so instead I smiled, strangely thrilled as the voices grew stronger and closer, hoping my face didn’t look too grotesque in the candle light, praying that Kuroo was somewhere near as we agreed to have the lights switched off when he stood close to the bench.

Before the song ended, his face appeared in the orange halo wearing an expression I have never seen before. Maybe it was the fire that gave warmness to his eyes, but the smile was genuine; no pretenses or masks. The bangs on one side of his face cast a soft shadow across his eye, but both hazel orbs glistened - it was plain to see from this close up. The darkness made the vast venue and the people around us disappear, and the only reality was this small circle of light and the two of us.

When the boys finished singing, Kuroo leaned forward and as he was making a wish, just before he blew out all the candles, he pointedly looked at me in a way that made my heart stutter. Maybe he was just expressing gratitude, moved by the gesture?

“Yaaaay!! Omedetooo!!” a roaring approval and applause echoed through the gym as someone turned the lights on again, the mystic surprise turning into a chocolate cake with smoking candles and Kuroo’s attention becoming divided.

“Thank you everybody!” he said in a moved voice, but the self control was back there, on his face and in his body language. “Ok, let’s eat the cake before we carry on. You are not getting away with skipping practice.”

“Yaaaay!” the boys expressed their glee and took out paper plates they had snuck in their sport bags, as I carefully lowered the cake onto the bench. I cut one slice for Kuroo and one for me, letting the team wipe out the rest.

“I guess I have to thank you for the idea,” Kuroo smiled as he accepted a plate from me.

I shrugged and smiled mysteriously, while I stuffed a piece of cake into my mouth. The rich chocolate helped me soothe my nervousness.

Kuroo shook his head, the smile on his face persisting in its genuine form, which I much preferred to the smug grin he usually wore around people. Around people he wasn’t close to - I realized. It was a mask he wore like Hanako wore her make up. With this in mind, I observed him closely as he tried the cake and he must have assumed I was gauging his reaction to the treat because he gave me an encouraging thumb up with his mouth still full.

“Look,” he started as he broke off another piece of cake with a plastic fork, “If you are not busy today, I am treating some friends to a drink this evening…”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” I shook my head vehemently. I hated the idea that he felt he owed me anything.

“Don’t worry, I know it’s a working day tomorrow so we don’t intend to go bar hopping. Just a quick drink,” he must have guessed what went on in my head because he added, “Really, I would like you to come.”

“Well, ok then,” I replied slowly, wondering if I really had a reason to refuse. Even if I didn’t like his friends, I could always chat with the other coaches, have a drink and take my leave.

* * *

As it turned out, there were no other club members at the get-together.

“Hey, it’s the lady manager!” the moment I stepped in from the cold into the stuffy izakaya air, a loud voice made me flinch and turn my head towards its source. The din from the outside as well as from the inside did nothing to dampen its resonance.

The trio sitting at a corner table looked like a randomly collected, mismatched bunch; Bokuto was wearing a flashy track suit of his volleyball club, Akaashi sported an ironed white shirt under an expensive looking dark blue sweater and the guy who seemed he had given up on dying his roots or cutting his long hair years ago was cuddled into an oversized hoodie. While Bokuto waved his hands frantically, like there was even a slight possibility that we could have missed him, Akaashi only gave an acknowledging nod and the third man kept peering at me from behind his unkempt hair like a distrusting cat.

For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine the sequence of events that put these people together, but as they did seem to be about the same age, I assumed they were all high-school friends.

“She is not …” Kuroo started to say as we approached the table but never got a chance to finish because Bokuto got up and clutched him in a bear hug.

“Happy birthday old pal, may you live to be a hundred!” Bokuto patted Kuroo on the back like a proper bear would, as if attempting to prevent his wish from coming true, “What took you so long, I am starving!

“All the best for your birthday Kuroo san,” Akaashi raised from his seat and slightly bowed, reciting in his measured voice, “I wish you prosperity, good health, wealth and success in…”

His cool, gray eyes slid behind Kuroo’s shoulder to me and I swear I saw his lips start forming the letter ‘L’ when Bokuto interjected in a whiny voice, “Akaashi, enough with the formaliiities! Let’s get some fooood! It’s Kuroo’s treat!”

The big athlete was already deeply engulfed in studying of the menu so Akaashi just bowed again and sat down. Only then did I realize that the third man was playing a game on his phone, his hands almost completely hidden in wide sleeves, his attention elsewhere.

“Sure, sure. Well, we have already….” scratching the back of his head with his hand, Kuroo turned to me, opening the view to the others, making me feel exposed. Why weren’t any other people from the club here? “We already had cake, but if you’d like to have a snack…?”

I noticed that at the mention of the cake, the long-haired man’s eyes narrowed and he started to observe the exchange intently.

Kuroo’s eyes were on mine though, looking for clues. His face betrayed an unsettled expression and for a good reason. He didn’t know how I would react. This meeting wasn’t exactly what he had me believe, but would I have agreed to come had I known I would be having a casual dinner and beer with his friends, on his birthday?

Nope.

I mean, had he asked openly, I would have been flattered, but this indirectness just didn’t seem to be something I’d expect from him. Or maybe I didn’t know Kuroo all that well, after all?

Not wanting to appear unfriendly now that I was already here, I smiled to the sitting men and slightly bowed in greeting, “Hello! Sure, I could share a kara-age plate with somebody.”

“Atta girl!” Bokuto clapped in delight and looked around for a waiter like a raptor. The serious, laser-like focus he obtained when he had a goal in sights was a tad scary.

“Well then, it’s settled,” did I just hear a relief in Kuroo’s voice? He motioned towards the table, “You’ve already met Akaashi and this scruffy character here was perhaps the best setter of his generation in Tokyo, Kozume Kenma.”

“Perhaps,” Akaashi cracked a smile and immediately hid it behind a beer glass he lifted to his mouth.

“And this is my assistant,” Kuroo continued, indicating with his hand in my direction.

“Nice to meet you,” I said as I sat down and thought I heard Kozume parrot the same formality. He was a taciturn, unobtrusive man, but his observant eyes will stay fixed on Kuroo pretty much throughout the entire evening.

In the end we did not have a snack but a proper dinner for five, with Bokuto eating for two and Kozume tasting almost nothing. I was shyly reserved until my second glass of beer kicked in, after which my tongue got untied and I cared less about being proper and more about being in the moment. That was the best side effect of the alcohol buzz.

By the time we parted, I knew more about volleyball and their youth than I ever thought I would but somehow listening to them reminiscing was not as waxing as listening to Sato san. Not only were the stories and mishaps animated and captivating, a side of Kuroo he usually didn't show now shone, as unguarded as his laughter. Tipsy and well fed (well, apart from Kozume), we stayed until the closing time and then missed the last trains home so Kuroo called a cab for the two us. We did live in the same neighborhood after all.

After the cabby opened the automatic car door in front of my apartment building and I unsteadily got out, Kuroo leaned across the back seat and said in a voice that sounded much more sober than it should have, “See you on Saturday, we have two games in Komazawa.”

“Sure,” I nodded and felt the world tilt. I was really not used to drinking.

“Thank you for the birthday present,” he said before the car door mechanism shut it, cutting off any opportunity, or a need, for a reply.

I waved him goodbye, suddenly aware I must be looking tired and unappealing beneath the bright streetlight. Fiddling with my keys as the taxi drove away in a quiet night, not really sorry that I won’t get enough sleep for tomorrow, I wondered if he meant the cake or the dinner.


	9. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve and Christmas are normal working days in Japan, however dates on Christmas are usually romantic and correspond do Valentine’s day dates in the West.
> 
> Omiyage is a souvenir one brings for family, friends, coworkers after returning from a trip and has a specific flavor/design of the place one had visited. 
> 
> Shinnenkai is a meeting organized by a company, club or a group of friends that marks the beginning of a year and is usually held in a Japanese style café/restaurants and involves eating and drinking and informal socializing. Bonenkai is similar, only held in late December for marking of passage of the year.

Chapter 9

**_December_ **

My before-bed routine was simple; check messages on my phone and set the morning alarm, brush my teeth and lie in bed before actually falling asleep, thinking about the last time I saw Kuroo or the next time I’ll see him, about some thing he said or did, about the nature of our relationship and if I was thinking too much into it, or too little, or was I completely off mark.

“An assistant,” I turned under a thick cover of my winter futon, as if poking the word with my tongue to see whether I liked the taste of it. Did it mean I was his right hand, a person of trust he could not do without or just somebody to take care of petty chores in his stead so he could concentrate on the real work?

Usually, when I had such dilemmas, the first person I would call for advice was Hanako, but now I felt I didn’t have that option anymore. I was saddened by a realization that, even if something _did_ happen between Kuroo and me, I would not rush to tell her. I recalled the casual izakaya dinner I had with Kuroo and the others, and the way their bonds remained strong even after so many years and such divergent paths they took in life.

Why was it not like that between Hanako and myself? What went wrong? The men were rivals as boys and, by their tales, they had bumped their heads many times in the past, but somehow their relationships remained pure nevertheless. Why was it so simpler for them?

Because they did not burden things with complicated emotions.

I turned again, cocooned in the warm air pocket, sheltered by the cold night but finding little consolation there.

“A friend,” I mouthed, thinking if that word still befitted Hanako, then considering if I could pass the title over to Kuroo and deciding that at this moment, neither of them fit the role.

There was a talk that never happened between Hanako and me, but was long overdue. The more time passed, the more I started to suspect it would never take place at all. The more time passed, the more the open confrontation we were trying to avoid threatened to quietly stifle what we once had between us.

I was not a friend with Kuroo; my motives for hanging around him were ulterior and it was about time I faced that fact. What started out as volunteering turned into a sense of belonging and something else that was starting to keep me awake at night. I too was harboring complicated emotions, terrified they would fester inside me, somehow turn this relationship sour.

Feeling guilty, lonely and helpless, I pulled the futon over my head. I didn’t want the Moon to see I was losing a fight against tears.

* * *

By the middle of December, Mr. Sato announced that we would have a bonenkai and a shinnenkai meeting, as the old year needed a proper goodbye and the new one a proper welcome. Even though most of us also had obligatory meet-ups with the colleagues from work, it would have been extremely rude not to show up, so we all marked the dates in our planners.

The bonenkai was planned on Dec 27th and the shinnenkai on Jan 10th. As I circled the dates in my notebook, I was astounded that so many things had happened in course of one year. Somehow, it felt like I had been a part of the club for ages and like volleyball was indeed a hobby of mine, and not some interest I picked up along the way. I could thank Hanako for that, but I wondered if she regretted her decision to talk me into attending the last shinnenkai. If I hadn’t been there, our lives would have been so less complicated now.

By checking the board in the club staff room, I have also learned that our boys were supposed to travel to Sendai on the 24th to play against t local high-schools.

“Sendai? Really?” with my eyebrows raised, I turned to Kuroo who was sitting at a desk, rushing to finish some paperwork before the practice session started.

“Uh-huh,” he just nodded his head and his rooster bangs followed the bobbing motion, too engulfed in work to unglue his eyes from the forms, “I have a few friends there who are, like me, coaching some boys in their free time.”

“Let me guess, you are just continuing some petty high-school rivalry?” I said in a flat tone and he finally stilled his hand and raised his face.

“Ridiculous, who would travel over 600 km just for that? That would be childish,” a smug, toothy grin gave him a tenacious look that refuted his words, but he just couldn’t seem to keep it off his face.

“It is actually a last minute arrangement,” Kuroo continued copying data from our records to forms and only then did I realize he was preparing letters of consent for the boys’ parents, “They have a volleyball festival on the 25th and we have been called as guests to play couple of matches against the local teams.”

“Oh, I see,” I said and closed my planner without marking anything for the 25th. The realization that Kuroo didn’t even consider inviting me stung and the fact that I couldn’t let it show stung even more. He must have picked up something though, because he stopped writing and raised his eyes again.

“I figured you didn’t want to take two days off work and spend Christmas on some high-school volleyball tournament,” he explained with eyes carefully set on my face. Only then has it occurred to me what day it was - a day reserved for love couples and romantic dates. Was I really expecting Kuroo to spend Christmas with me?

“Of course not,” I retorted with a smile, enduring the inquisitive gaze that seemed to linger far too long, feeling a cold pit of disappointment opening inside my belly. I had dug it myself, with my silly ideas and daydreams and now I had to carry on like nothing happened – because nothing actually did – and spend the next hour and a half next to Kuroo, assisting with the training.

Because that was what assistants were there for, anyway.

* * *

After work on 25th, I chose to treat myself to a make-over in order to fix my mood. Having the whole afternoon for myself, I decided not to ask anyone else to join me. Instead, I strolled through several malls at my own pace, trying out outfits and make up, giving attention to the girly things that I neglected by wearing track suit most of my free time. I even had my hair cut and styled, so by the time I entered the cool night air, in new clothes and after having tried half a dozen snacks, I could pretend not to see all the happy couples that strolled around me.

They reminded me of a younger version of myself two years ago as I held hands with my ex, happy to be lost amid other smiling couples for that one day, even though in our hearts we already knew it was over between us. I remembered the last year, when I was stuck at home, alone and miserable, and Hanako’s overly cheery voice, doing her best to drag me outside.

So many things in just two years and now, it seemed, again a new beginning.

Since the evening was not too cold and the eaten snacks needed burning off, I decided to take my time and slowly enjoy the elaborate Christmas lights of Roppongi, relishing in countless dazzling dots the trees, the posts and buildings were illuminated with. Somehow I felt Kuroo was out of town and his absence made the crisp air even clearer and clarity was what I needed. It had been ages since I took in this city on foot and just as I deliberated whether to call Hanako after all and suggest a long walk, like the ones we used to have, my phone rang.

Telepathy?

The display shone with Kuroo’s name and an icicle formed in my chest. I watched my freshly manicured nails hold the phone in a tight grip, like answering the call meant opening of a dam to the past again, a portal to the feelings I no longer wanted to feel. Maybe I was abandoning the team for my uncalled for selfishness, but I really couldn’t partake in their victory or in their defeat right now. Maybe I would never again. I needed my preserve clarity more than I needed to belong.

A single thing made me press the green icon; it was a video call, the first one Kuroo had ever sent to me.

“Hello from Sendai,” he smiled at me, all bundled up in a red scarf, the warm breath from his mouth forming white haze around his face. He was walking through what seemed a Christmas light filled tree alley with crunching sounds under his feet. The conditions must have been much harsher up north because heaps of cleared snow banked the roads on both sides of the park he was in.

“Hello,” I replied, hating the way his voice made my heart speed up. It was unfair.

“You are outside?” the smile on his lips wavered, his eyes quickly taking in my surroundings. There was a hesitation in his voice, “Am I calling at a bad time?”

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. Hating the idea that maybe, just maybe, he had been checking if I was on a date. This kind of careless wishful thinking has only brought me anguish so far but, like they were wild horses, I couldn’t rein my hopes in.

“Oh, ok, it’s just you look so…” he paused, his feet making a few noisy steps, his eyes trailing across my features, my freshly cut hair, the make up on my face, “Like you are on your way to somewhere.”

“I am not,” I said with the air of finality and started slowly walking down the street,” How did the boys do?”

“Well, they lost some and won some. The local teams are on a high level…” I listened to Kuroo describe the games, the impressions, the experiences. The fact that he called and was speaking only for me was more important than what he was saying, so I listened with half an ear, perfecting the atmosphere of my late evening walk amid the lights.

Kuroo must have noticed my lack of attention because after a while he paused and we continued walking in silence, the video call counting passed minutes.

“I am in Jozenjidori now,” the haze made his face blurry again as he changed the subject without any obvious prompt, but I didn’t even ask why as long as I got to listen to his low, deep voice talking to me. He tilted his phone a bit in order to take in the tall, bare boughs that created an organic roof above his head and thousands of warm, orange lights that were scattered everywhere.

“Today I was told an urban legend about these lights,” by sights and sounds around him, it seemed the alley was a popular romantic spot for strolling couples with their dreamy eyes alight by the tiny flames. “Apparently, only one of these lights is blue and the couples that spot it will live together happily ever after.”

He stopped and slowly spun about, giving me a perspective of the vast tunnel of light. Countless specs reminded me of star clusters in a center of a galaxy.

“So,” I asked, my voice as unrushed as my steps, the bluish decorating lights of Tokyo lighting my way, “have you been looking for it?”

Kuroo threw his head back a bit and laughed, but I knew that was the way he was buying himself time to think or hide embarrassment, or both. He walked further leisurely, snow under his feet crunching, the unreadable smile facing the screen, “Yeah, I kinda did.”

“Well?” I sauntered on, feeling like we were walking side by side although a mere tap on the touchscreen could dispel this illusion, “Did you find it?”

“Jeez, you always ask difficult questions,” Kuroo flashed a smile with his eyes closed, a hint of reprove in his voice. “That is something that couples should be doing.”

 _And you never give straight answers_ , I thought, deciding to let him smoothly change the subject as I knew he would.

“The boys told me to say ‘HI’ to you. They got you some zunda desserts as omiyage HIHIhiH

, I just hope they don’t eat them before they reach you,” Kuroo sounded so much like a dad again.

“What is Sendai like?” I turned the corner to move away from busy streets and people, heading in direction of a park where we could chat without too much background noise. If this was my Christmas date, I was going to enjoy it as much as I could.

“Very small compared to Tokyo, I don’t think it is possible to get lost here,” he cocked his head, thinking. Once we started to talk about everyday things, the conversation flowed on fluidly.

“Really?” I prompted him to tell me more as I glided amid the glittering street decorations. I had at least twenty more minutes before my battery ran out and wanted to use them to savor this moment we shared together, still.

Mr. Sato had been right, the bonenkai was the perfect way to say goodbye, so I wanted to make as many nice memories as I could, while it all still lasted.

“They have these black kites that soar above the town, I mean these birds are huge…” Kuroo’s voice travelled from a distant place and still managed to reach me.

* * *

The next practice session was on the day after and, since I couldn’t bear to sit at home and look at the clock knowing that the kids have brought zunda cakes for me in vain, after I left the office I took the usual route to the club.

Blushing a little, the boys handed me a box with neatly packed bright green cakes, each in its individual wrapping, and I thanked them with a genuine gratefulness. Next time, they said, I must come with them and that broke my heart. Little did they know that, come January, they will not be seeing any more of me. Instead of having to explain myself to their faces, I had already decided to write a formal resignation from my club activities to Mr. Sato and Kuroo san due to personal circumstances and simply disappear like I had never been there in the first place.

When the boys were sent off on a warm up routine, Kuroo came up to me with that ambiguous smile of his, fished something out of his pocket and handed it to me without much ado. I took and inspected the strange item, unsure what to make of it.

“Ummm, thanks…” I eyed the plastic star pendant that seemed to wear a samurai helmet with a banana on top of it.

“It is a little piece of Sendai that will last longer than zunda,” he made a joke, but his eyes didn’t share the smile, checking for my reaction. He elaborated, “That is the famous crescent moon.”

“The moon?” I parroted, unable to make a meaningful connection as I turned the thingie in my palm.

“Date Masamune?” Kuroo tried, his smile fading, “The overkill helmet?”

I blinked at him, unable to even pretend I had any idea what he was talking about. He fought a frown and somehow I found the embarrassed frustration he tried to mask particularly funny. It was so much easier now that I knew in a week all this would be a memory.

“Anyway, it is just a silly trinket, I thought…” he scratched the back of his neck with his one hand, turning to the clipboard in the other, his tone becoming businesslike, “I guess it made more sense yesterday.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, palming the small pendant like it was a material manifestation of my silly dreams, looking just as silly. I put it in my pocket carefully, checking every now and then if it was still there in fear it could fall out and disappear.

Only when I came home and inspected it more closely, did I notice that the little star shone with a pale bluish light.

* * *

The bonenkai meet-up was on Saturday, so I knew we were in for a late-night drinking and singing marathon. The results were solid, club did well in the last year and several new coaches, including Yamato kun, were added to the staff, so lot of toasts were due.

Hanako texted me not to wait for her, so when I arrived, I found myself sitting between Mr. Sato and the young Yamato who greeted me with a genuine smile. I smiled in response as I took off my coat, already knowing I would miss that pure young man and his positive energy.

“What are you having?” Yamato asked as he took in my new hairstyle, then nimbly stood up to find me a glass.

“Shochu, please,” I felt warmth seeping back in my fingers after I sat myself beside Mr. Sato. Cold December nights were nippy. As I blew hot air on my hands, I looked around the long, narrow table, nodding hellos to other coaches who had already gathered. Kuroo was still not among them.

“How have you been, young lady?” Mr. Sato peered at me, an empty glass of sake in his hand. Without a conscious thought, I reached for the bottle and politely poured him another drink.

“Fine, thank You very much for asking. And how have You fared?” I gave him the brightest smile I could muster as I used both hands to properly hold the small bottle.

“Ahhh, forget the ranks and formalities for today,” the old may waved his hand dismissively, and raised his glass as he noticed that Yamato kun had provided me with a shochu shot. “Kanpai!”

“Kanpai!” I answered the toast and let the liquid slide down my throat and ignite the fire in my belly. Yamato was quick to pour me another one, the glee on his face genuine. I bowed in thanks and he blushed.

“I heard your and Kuroo’s team made a big impression on Sendai clubs. Good job!” Mr. Sato patted me on the back like an amiable uncle, making me feel I had been taking someone else’s credit.

“It was not really my doing, I am just collecting stats,” I lowered my chin demurely, hoping no one had been listening in to our conversation.

Mr. Sato peered at me again, the eyes behind his wrinkled skin looking unexpectedly sharp. Then he said, “He really is hopeless, that one… A smart cat hides its claws, you know?”

“Y-yeah,” I nodded unsurely, guessing the old man has already had too much to drink. Keeping in mind this was basically our last meeting, I didn’t find it hard to view the whole scene with fondness.

“But a cat that hides too much will never catch a mouse,” he concluded in a dramatic tone and then leaned in closer to me, “He might seem all slick and confident on the outside, but on the inside it is a completely different story. I told him a thousand times that he plays too safe. You don’t win matches by being just on the defense. To score a point you need to risk something.”

“Uh-huh,” I kept on nodding, a vague uneasiness rising inside of me. Was Mr. Sato talking about Kuroo? Volleyball? Just then, the familiar rooster hairdo entered, looking handsome in a dark turtleneck sweater, and greeted the room with a curt nod, the narrow eyes sweeping across the gathered faces. When our gazes connected, my heart did the usual summersault and I had to laugh at myself for being so silly. Soon I would not be a part of this group anymore, so why was I still concerned with such trifles?

Having misinterpreted my reaction, Mr. Sato continued, “Unless, maybe, you are not interested?”

“Me?” I mouthed and, as I watched the old man’s expectant face, remembered it was him who suggested I joined the training sessions, the beach party, the Sports Day festival. A memory of Hanako joking how Mr. Sato would adopt me flashed through my mind. I recalled the first time I talked to this man, during the last shinnenkai, when he seemed to be just as drunk as he was now and we had a nice chat which ended with me filling out a membership application. Was the club really that understaffed that they needed help from a complete amateur?

Kuroo found a free spot at the far end of the table and was already engaged in talk with one of his colleagues. He didn’t show any inclination to move closer to where we were sitting.

Mr. Sato only shook his head and emptied his cup again, “A setter can make a perfect toss, but if the spiker doesn’t do his part, it’s all been in vain.”

“That’s so true, Mr. Sato!” Yamato’s fervent voice was fueled by alcohol as he kept the old man’s glass full, but I had a feeling he hadn’t been talking about volleyball.

As if the growing din and singing voices weren’t making my confusion worse, my phone began to ring. I excused myself and dug through my purse frantically to answer it in time, wondering who could be calling at such a late hour.

“Heeey,” Hanako’s voice form the other side sounded more than just tipsy, “Are you at bonenkai?”

“Yes, where are you?” I asked as quietly as I could, standing in front of the room our club had reserved for the party.

“Oh, coming in a minute,” she giggled, “make some room for me.”

I returned to my seat, aware that Kuroo’s eyes followed me as I crossed the room but still he didn’t alter the sitting arrangement even though several of our colleagues had abandoned their positions and were up on their feet, singing like no one was recording them.

Hanako came in shorty, her cheeks pinched pink by the chill. She brought a cool refreshment of cold night air to the stuffy room on her coat. By the elaborate dress and make-up, I guessed this was not the first party she visited tonight and I soon learned she didn’t plan to make it her last.

After she said the perfunctory hellos, she sat down next to me and put one of her arms around my shoulders.

“There you are!” she smiled and I felt disarmed, forgetting the unrecognizable relationship that was our friendship. This was a bonenkai after all, a chance to let the bygones be bygones. “Let’s drink one together, for the old times’ sake!”

“Sure,” I accepted, raising my cup and gulping its content down, trying not to make a grimace, ignoring the ominous proposal for the toast.

“I don’t have enough air here,” she leaned into me, pressing a hand against her chest, “and the atmosphere is so-so.” She eyed the coaches that drunkenly clutched each other and mindlessly laughed.

“Come on,” she pulled me up to my feet and grabbed my purse, “Let’s freshen up.”

“Okay,” I managed to get my phone and my coat and met her outside. It was late December and there were a lot of people in the streets, sharing the festive atmosphere, going from one party to another, enjoying the few days when it was socially acceptable to be irresponsible and carefree.

“Look, there is a mixer party a block away,” I watched Hanako re-apply lipstick, aided by a tiny mirror, as I trembled in my coat, clutching my phone in hand, “and judging by the photos a friend has been sending me, there are some guys really worth our time there.”

I wondered if this was a déjà vu, an alternate reality where, instead of the last shinnenkai party, Hanako and I decided to visit the gōkon, in which none of the complications from the past year happened and Hanako and I are still the best of friends. I wondered if this was her attempt to start with a clean slate, to make things better between us again.

“A mixer?” I cocked my head, weighing the proposal. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to be just the thing I needed to help me burn all the bridges tying me to the club. A path to a new beginning. “Why not?”

I noticed something caught Hanako’s attention so I turned around to see Kuroo had followed us outside, standing at the izakaya entrance, one of his hands still holding the door open. His set, stern face didn’t look at me, but at the helmeted star pendant that swung from my cell phone strap. It seemed there was not a drop of blood in his cheeks, his pale face stood out in contrast to blackness of his hair, eyes and attire.

Then his eyes met mine, but he broke the gaze almost immediately, turned and strode back in without a single word, letting the door slam shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Jozenjidori and Roppongi Christmas lights, you will not be disappointed !
> 
> Zunda is a traditional, bright green colored paste from Tohoku region and especially Sendai, that is eaten in desserts as mochi or taiyaki or cake filling, or just by itself. Very yummy and of specific colorisation.
> 
> Date Masamune was a ruler in Tohoku region and his famous crescent moon armor is a very common element of souvenirs from Sendai. Just google Date Masamune helmet and you'll get the idea of the cresent moon armor.


	10. December II

Chapter 10

_December II_

I tossed and turned all night so when dawn on Monday finally came, I got up and went through the motions of preparing myself for work with little conscious focus. I ate and worked and responded to my colleagues on an autopilot, my thoughts inevitably drawn to the afternoon and the practice session at the club.

I had promised myself I would be there, had already planned to bring some snacks since it was supposed to be the last session of the year and my last session with the boys. I was prepared to spend the last two hours as a part of their team, unbeknownst to them, and disappear with a warm memory.

This was all before the last Saturday bonnenkai and its aftermath took place.

As I watched the sun slowly set from my office window, I could not decide whether to just go ahead with the plan or to never show my face at the gym again. If it was only for Kuroo, I don’t think I would have seen the club anymore. Regardless of what I busied myself with, I still saw the brief but appalled look on his face in the back of my mind. If he ever had an ounce of interest in me, it must have evaporated then and there.

But I had to consider the boys too and I really wanted them to remember me by the last, cheerful occasion we shared. In my mind’s eye I have imagined their faces light up at the sight of treats they would get after the training and I really, really wanted to take that picture away with me. They were the only ones I haven’t let down, yet, and I had to try and redeem myself, even a little.

So, after I finished work I took my sports bag with a change of clothes and, for the last time, caught the well-known train to the well-known station. I got two full bags of snacks at a combini close to the club and checked my watch. As planned, I would arrive a little late, when the session will have already started so I would avoid an awkward meeting with the coach. During the training we both knew what to do, so any unnecessary talk could be avoided, and for the first time I honestly wanted to be treated as a mere assistant.

Standing before the door and hearing the usual bustle form the inside, I set my face in a smile and walked in.

“Hi! Sorry for being late,” my voice sounded a little too cheery, but I strode on straight to the nearest bench where I deposited my cargo, pointedly not looking at anyone in particular, “but I am willing to bet you will forgive me because I brought a little something to celebrate the last effort of the successful year.”

The boys, running warm-up laps amid stomps of their feet and squeaks of their shoes, gave the expected cheer of approval, making my smile a tad more genuine. I balanced the overflowing bags on the bench, turned on my heel and started walking towards the changing room, sneaking a peek at the trainers.

Young Yamato was standing petrified with a ball in his hands and, for the first time since I’ve known the man, not smiling when he saw me. His mouth was half open, the eyes that stared back at me shifting between panic and dread. Then they darted over to the head coach and I instinctively followed the motion.

If Kuroo’s hair had a will of its own before, now it completely mutinied. It seemed he too didn’t get a proper rest lately. The first impression that struck me when seeing him was the lack of the usual control; the expression on his face was far from enigmatic - it was openly incredulous, as he silently followed my retreat into the adjacent room.

I passed through the doorframe, entering into a faint aroma of old sweat and unused utensils, feeling like a fox slinking into the safety of its hole. However, the sound of the hunter was behind my back, making my pulse race and the fine hair on the back of my neck pucker.

“Take over,” I heard Kuroo’s flat directive to Yamato as he tossed away the clipboard he had been holding.

Two, six, eight, his quick footsteps followed me.

I had already closed the door behind me and came close to the far wall, when Kuroo pulled on the knob without knocking and let himself in. He slammed the door shut and remained leaning on it with one hand, his body half turned to me. I have never encountered this glare in his eyes before and the force of its silent intensity was crushing me. The slight hunch of his shoulders betrayed the stress his body contained like a taut coil.

I had prepared myself for his ambiguous snide remarks or for him being low-key pissed at me, or even for him ignoring me. I was so used to Kuroo not showing his cards, I was not prepared for this. The part of me that wanted his attention now cowered somewhere in the corner and my mind went completely blank.

I forgot I did not have to explain myself to him or that I could point out that I was not amused by him walking in on me changing. Instead I muttered a barely audible,

“I didn’t go to the mixer.”

“Why?” his response was slow and raspy, the tension in his body language unchanged. He didn’t move, the eyes intensely fixed on me beneath the explosion that were his bangs as if he was still deciding on his course of action.

I opened my mouth but no explanation, no sound came out.

I wanted to make him see why, wondered why he didn’t – when it was so clear to me – but I couldn’t verbalize the turmoil inside me in a simple sentence. I did not want to describe how on Saturday, after Hanako and I had turned the first corner, I told her I was going home after all. And how in her eyes I saw betrayal - she must have thought I was going back to the bonenkai – but I didn’t want to explain myself to her either. Instead of choosing a side, I went to catch a train.

When he got no answer from me, Kuroo gradually straightened out, his body facing me and his hands resting on his hips, his unfocused gaze directed at the floor in front of his feet. Then he let out a deep breath, collecting himself.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he shook his head in subdued frustration, frowning despite the attempt to put on a grin. For once, his front was slipping and there was no one else here to face his true emotions, no one but me.

He must have been really angry.

“W-what do you m…” I clutched the bag to my chest, a solid barrier between his cards on the table and me. Not knowing how he felt had been killing me, but this was not the course I thought that conversation would take. No matter how many times had I imagined scenarios, this was not it. _This_ was all wrong.

“The mixed signals,” a hint of impatience hued his voice as he stepped closer, still looking down and striving to maintain the frustrated smile, as if by avoiding my gaze he was able to think more clearly. Kuroo’s voice fought to keep the humor in his tone, but his frustration was palpable.

“I didn’t…” I held on to the bag like a drowning man to a life vest, feeling the blood drain from my cheeks.

“You join my team and when it is time to show it in public, you switch to Hanako’s. You come to every game and goof around with the team, but even though I saw in your diary that you had nothing planned for Christmas, you didn’t even ask to come to Sendai with m… us.”

He sighed and continued, taking another step closer. The voice coming from behind the low hanging bangs was now less angry and more… soft? Disappointed?

“You hang the pendant I gave you on your phone, keep it on table at bonenkai for me to see clearly, and then turn around and plan a fucki… a mixer date.”

Kuroo stopped a step short of me and his eyes finally fixed on mine, the deceptive coolness of his gaze trying to create a distance between us again, between his controlled face and his unsettled chest. He was putting up the labyrinth again; a force of habit.

But it had been too late, he had said too much.

I didn’t want him to regret it.

“It was not like that,” I shook my head vehemently, hugging my belongings and raising my shoulders defensively. There were so many things I wanted to say at once, but it all came down to, “I don’t want to be your assistant anymore!”

When a hurt look fluttered across his face, despite his defenses, I realized I had erred.

“I want to be something more, if you…” I explained quietly, lowering my chin, “I didn’t mean to send you mixed signals, I wasn’t even sure if you were… interested in me.”

“Do you think I would fry the soles of my feet showing off for just anybody?” with his hands on his hips Kuroo raised one eyebrow at me, the smile on his face less forced.

“You were showing off?” I whispered, blinking up at his towering figure in disbelief.

“You didn’t even notice?” an irritated look narrowed his eyes.

I shook my head, “I guess I was too busy glaring at local girls in tiny swim suits who came to ogle the boys from Tokyo.”

“Glaring at...??” Kuroo burst out laughing and, just like that, the thick atmosphere around us dissipated, “What a mess!”

When he looked at me again, it felt like a rock had fallen off his chest. A slight smile danced on his lips while he said in a meaningful voice, “Will you let go of that poor bag already, you’ll choke it to death.”

He reached for it and I felt my knees go weak because I knew what was coming. I was telling myself I was a grown up and had done this before, there was no need to feel like a jittery schoolgirl, but when he leaned in, took the weight off my hands and pulled me in in a single motion, I felt my eyes close and mouth part in sweet anticipation.

Then, there was nothing else in the world, apart from Kuroo’s lips.

Somewhere, in another dimension, my bag slid down between us and hit the floor as he freed his hands to cup my shoulders with his palms and draw me closer to him, into his personal space, into his body heat, the smell of Kuroo. My head was spinning and I didn’t want to get down from that carousel, even though the kiss was still a mere peck, an appetizer, a tentative, curious taste of things to come.

“Coach?” Yamato’s muffled voice fractured the lull that was starting to fill my chest and I lifted my heavy eyelids just in time to see Kuroo’s flush face moving away and turning.

“Proceed with serve drills!” he shouted at the closed door. The intensity of Kuroo’s voice reverberated through his arms and across my body because he wasn’t letting me go. His skin, pupils, his eyelashes were so close, discernible in such fine detail, I felt like the whole universe condensed into his form for this short instant.

Turning back, he gave me a tender, almost embarrassed smile, “Sorry, I know this is completely unprofessional but I had to make things between us clear.”

“Are they clear?” I asked quietly and he grinned, taking my question as an invitation to clarify the issue further, this time more thoroughly. Now he went in with his hunger displayed openly, sliding his tongue gently across my tender lips until I responded in kind, dazzled by the stimulation. I felt I could stand here, in the middle of a dim-lit, smelly changing room, and just kiss him for hours. I needed his touch to keep away all the doubts and second-thoughts I had about us so far, about Hanako, about if we had any future at all, and he was doing a fine job.

And this was only a kiss.

When he pulled back for the second time, he slowly opened his eyes and inspected my face for a reaction. A look of satisfaction glowed in his features, his hands warm around me.

“Clear?” the perfunctory question was mouthed in a low, intimate murmur, but I shook my head.

“I don’t want this to be one of your… rash decisions,” I said openly, knowing I could not handle the disappointment if I turned out to be one of his ‘mistakes’. It was better to know where I really stood in his eyes, even though there was nothing more I now wanted than to meet his lips with mine again, and again.

“Trust me,” Kuroo said in the same confiding tone, the hazel orbs sober and serious, “There is nothing rash about this.” He chuckled, “Even Kenma, the most inert guy I know, called me an idiot for not reacting sooner.”

Oh, so he talked to his friends about me, even when there was nothing to talk about yet. I couldn’t have guessed from just meeting him, but it seemed the taciturn Kenma was also keenly perceptive. If he could figure things out just by meeting me once, how come the two of us have been so blind? Or maybe we were simply not in a rush to get hurt again?

Leaning into Kuroo’s warm embrace, it seemed to me we were both ready to take the risk.

“I have to get back,” he reluctantly stepped away, then asked hopefully, “but I would like to have a dinner with you today. Can you stay after the training?”

“Yeah,” I replied, thinking how this would be the first celebratory dinner for only two, but it made sense since this could count as a small victory for the both of us. I wasn’t looking my best today, but neither did Kuroo, and after seeing each other on so many different days throughout the past year, I really had nothing to hide. One thing had always interested me, though.

I reached up and flattened the cow lick on his head, just to see it bounce back tenaciously the second I removed my hand.

“I just had to know,” I shrugged with a smile and Kuroo shook his head, grinning and moving towards the door.

“Out of all things you could have checked out, you go for the hair, “ he taunted and gave me a wink that made me blush, before opening the door and saying in a completely changed tone, “Alright, split into two teams! We’re going to focus on attacks!”

When I finally put my track suit on and emerged from the changing room to attend the session which was obviously not going to be my last with the team, the boys were immersed in practice as usual, bouncing balls around under the keen surveillance of the coach. Only Yamato’s glances lingered on me, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what had happened. That became clear, however, when, after we shared the snacks and locked up the gym, Kuroo slung my bag over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing, reminded everyone when was the first training in the new year and pointedly wished everyone else a good night.

I followed his tall back, waving to the others, feeling like I was walking on air. Its nippy coldness didn’t bother me at all. When I woke up this morning, if I had known my day would end with me staying with the team and having a private dinner with the coach, I would have pinched myself to check if I was maybe still dreaming.

“So, about the New Year’s Eve plans…” Kuroo opened the subject as he led us to a place nearby he frequented, and I was too embarrassed to slide my arm under his elbow or try to hold his hand, so I laced my fingers behind my back and continued walking next to him, listening to him make plans just for the two of us.

For now, this filled my heart up to the brim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have waited for that kiss for sooooo long *sobs*


	11. And again… January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amazake – sweet sake  
> edamame – salty boiled or steamed soybeans in a pod, served usually on a saucer as a snack  
> hatsuhinode (初日の出) – first sunrise of a new year and its traditional welcoming

Chapter 11

**_And again… January_ **

I should have guessed.

The moment I stepped out of the cab, I recognized the name of the restaurant written in an elegant brush script, bringing back memories.

Kuroo was already in front with hands stuffed into pockets of his coat, a warm smile on his face despite the cold night. His eyes took me in attentively as I approached, unsure how to greet him. Using my hesitation, he had decided for me and slipped his long fingers around my hand to lead me inside. Briefly stopping to confirm our reservations, we proceeded to our table and I gladly let him bring me along, relishing in the deceptively casual touch between us. His skin was warm and contact light but persistent; he didn’t let go until I settled in.

For our New Year’s Eve dinner he had booked the same restaurant where the last shinnenkai was held, the very one where we met for the first time. However, instead of sitting across a long table and not saying a word to each other, this time elegant paper dividers were arranged to create a discreetly lit, cozy space just big enough for a small low Japanese style table and two sitting cushions. I had no idea how he managed to pull it off on such a short notice and didn’t even want to think about how much it must have cost.

The slightly formal attire he wore gave Kuroo the air of a different – established - man, his tall, well-formed figure seemed perfect for high neck pullovers and the wine colored one he now wore outlined his body in distracting details. Judging by the grin that lingered on his face ever since he noticed my initial fluttery reaction, he was well aware of the effect. The touch of his hand still lingered on my fingers, I wanted more. The slick shine of gel he used to style his hair and the shadows the dim lights brushed across his face made his features elusive, eyes glistening and a bit wolfish. Mixed with his musky cologne, I couldn’t say I completely disliked the effect.

Finally, I was alone with this hard-to-read man, this was a place and time just for us, but still so many things were left undefined. While I wanted to skip forward, I also wanted to enjoy this part, the exploration, the hesitation, testing of boundaries. The first dinner together, the first weekend, the first lovemaking…

There was one more thing I didn’t want to think about; the circumstances of our last visit here. I came because Hanako had called me and Kuroo had been sitting next to his future ex. There was no space for the two shadows that trailed behind us at our tiny table and I hoped we had left them outside.

“I thought you said you were through with hasty decisions,” I gave the man sitting across from me an askew glance, eager to hide behind my cup of amazake. I wanted to reprimand his spendthrift behavior but I couldn’t really stare him down, feeling overly self-conscious around him tonight. I was not the assistant who sat behind his back or a teammate who stood beside him anymore; here and now I was the sole focus of his attention and as much as I liked these circumstances, they also scared me. Because now, face to face, we would see if we can really click, or was this only wishful thinking fueled by a silly crush.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at me with a hint of a smirk, leaving me wondering if he really had no idea what I was talking about or if he was playing one of his mind games that seemed to amuse him so much. Maybe he too was just as nervous as I was, only more versed at concealing it.

I sighed and vaguely indicated around with my hand, “This. I seemed to remember that the last time you booked an expensive last-minute arrangement you called it a ‘fucking disaster’.”

Kuroo’s smile only widened, it seemed nothing could ruin his good mood today as he shook his head decisively.

“You and I are hardly strangers,” his eyes met mine for a second as he busied himself with pouring me another drink, “Besides, Sato sensei knows the owner and got this arranged in no time when I explained the situation.”

“The _situation_?” I put my elbows on the table and leaned in closer, nibbling on edamame snacks while waiting on our food.

“Well,” Kuroo placed the flask back on the table and brushed an invisible speck of dust off his sleeve, “I didn’t want to take you to my place on the first date. It could be misinterpreted.”

“But, I…” my eyes widened. I didn’t know whether my cheeks burned because of the alcohol or the realization that I wouldn’t really mind if a date in his apartment turned out to be a date in his bedroom.

“Yeah,” Kuroo looked at me with a straight face, “not all men like to be objectified and used for sex without establishing an emotional bond first.”

“What!?” I mouthed after a pause, unsure how he managed to turn this around on me. Now _I_ felt like the pervy one.

“So I thought a nice dinner would be a perfect way to end this year and launch a new beginning,” his voice lost the hint of humor as he took a piece of edamame off a saucer and toyed with it absentmindedly.

“Is that why you picked this place?” I asked in a quieter tone, noting the softening of his eyes. He paused, turned the notion again in his head before nodding.

“If I had known then that in a year I would be sitting here like this with you…,”he started off like he was about to tell a funny story, but the giddy emotion deserted him halfway. “A lot has happened,” he added in a low voice and before he could finish his thought, a discreet _‘excuse me’_ turned our heads to the waiter who had brought our meal in many little plates that ended up covering the entire table.

After the food had been served and the two of us alone again, the moment had been lost and neither wanted to delve on the past anymore. The enticing aroma of the food also had a lot to do with the shift in our focus. Picking up my chopsticks, I asked,

“When I came to the last training session, young Yamato gave me a really strange look. Did you tell him anything about… ummm, us?” I managed to get the last word out, barely, unsure what it really meant, but Kuroo seemed not to notice.

He sighed, the chopsticks in his hand hovering above his plate, his gaze unfocused like he looked for the best way to approach a difficult subject, “I didn’t have to tell him anything, he saw the whole thing. After you left, I came back to the bonenkai party and Sato san immediately asked me to sit next to him. He saw what happened and wanted to talk to me about it…”

Kuroo flashed an uncharacteristically uneasy smile, like he was apologizing for what he was about to say next, “When I thought about you in a mixer, laughing and flirting with some strange men who only…” he shook his head and lowered his chopsticks, darkness filling his eyes, “I could not think straight. Sato san pestered me to go after you. He was drunk and he meant well, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to listen so I told him to stop sticking his nose in other people’s business.”

I only stared at him, the cooling dinner forgotten, wondering if I had just ruined our date with a deceptively innocent question.

“Then I got up and went home,” Kuroo continued in the same grave voice, still avoiding my gaze, the emotion in him surfacing in waves, unstoppable, “Actually, I walked. Didn’t even say goodbye. It took me a couple of hours to get back and I needed them to clear my head. I passed by your building on my way, kind of hoping I would see you just getting out of a taxicab like in some corny romance movie where destiny aids the poor lovesick sucker, but of course you could have had company and… knowing my luck, that was more than likely, I didn’t want to stick around.”

He paused, collected himself and continued in a slow, quiet voice, “And after all that, you show up to the practice session like nothing happened, prancing and smiling, giving away snacks. It was just too much.”

There was nothing I could think of to say after he finished. I was unaware of the drama that went on beneath my window while I was trying to fall asleep on that tumultuous night, as I was apparently unaware of what had been going on inside Kuroo’s heart all this time. I vividly remembered the conversation we had in the changing room, his frustration and anger that I was still processing. Did he really think I had been leading him on, even up to that point? No wonder he didn’t try to stop me from going to the mixer, the man had his pride after all.

Kuroo was still waiting for my reaction, his eyes intense and focused on the empty plate before him.

The table was too wide for me to lean all the way to him, so I scooped a bite-sized piece of spiced rice with my chopsticks and, with a slightly trembling hand, brought it to his lips. His hazel eyes shot up, inspecting my face, unsure how to interpret the gesture.

“I am sorry if I made you feel that way. Believe me, it was not my intention,” I cooed instinctively. I needed him to believe me, to trust me. Watching his face soften like melting of ice, I continued, “I cannot go back to that night and stay, but I am here now.”

Kuroo’s lips parted and he accepted the morsel slowly, looking me in the eyes with a feral hunger that had nothing to do with food. My skin shivered, I wished I had touched those lips with mine, wondering what the hell were we doing, not kissing, not touching, still wasting the precious time stuck in our former roles, dancing around the real issue.

Like he had read my mind, Kuroo’s hand grasped mine, pulling me closer across the table while he raised himself to meet me. The paper partitions kept us hidden from curious eyes but we had to be discreet, taking great care not to tumble dozens of small saucers and plates over as our hands sought each other, our mouths joining in a starved encounter. One by one, the chopsticks fell from my hand, forgotten.

We had to make up for all those times we yearned to do this, for all those daydreams and fantasies that we secretly hoped would somehow come true. This was real, the firmness of his body beneath the fabric, his smell, the hands that touched and grasped me in their blind need to establish their territory. The passion of his kiss defied his laid back manner, the tenacity with which his tongue sought mine left me out of breath.

“Don’t mind,” Kuroo softly chuckled against my searing lips, “I would trade that evening for this one any time.” His mouth pecked mine once more, tenderly, “You know what?”

“Mmhh?” I murmured with closed eyes, letting his fingertips gently maneuver my chin towards his lips again.

“I haven’t felt like this after a kiss for a long, long time,” he replied in a lazy drawl, like he was sharing a secret, tickling my skin with his breath. I thought about it and had to agree, amused how well he had put it. I also didn’t experience this kind of kiss in ages; the type that makes you silly and forgetful of your surroundings, your insecurities and loneliness, that means so much and moves you so deeply you could cry.

I did blink quickly couple of times and he noticed, pressing a final peck in my cheek instead of on my lips, making me even more tender on the inside. He sure knew how to touch my soft spots, but I wondered if it had been the same for him.

“Tetsurou,” I whispered his name for the first time and saw his eyes widen, all emotion but awe wiped from his face. Bingo. The realization that I could have such effect on him filled my heart. The aloof coach was not so unmovable after all. “I wish we had done this sooner. I decided never to come to the club again and if it weren’t for the boys, I wouldn’t have …”

The thumb of his hand pressed my lips to stop the stream of words, as my face rested on his palm. Tetsurou’s eyes grew deep and very serious, “Don’t think I would have just let you disappear on me. Sato san was right, I am an idiot for not acting sooner, but I am not a complete wimp. I wouldn’t let a chance like this slip away without at least trying something.”

“Like storming into girls’ changing room?” I pouted, hiding a hint of a smile.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Tetsurou muttered, then grinned impishly, “Maybe I should have waited a bit until you started changing?”

“I don’t think that would have had the same effect,” I tried to pout some more, but was unable to stop myself from laughing. “Did Mr. Sato really call you an idiot?” I snickered and sat back, fixing my hair and attire.

“Well, not in those exact words…” Tetsurou leaned back and picked up his chopsticks again, looking at the cold fish on his plate with a tinge of regret. “He is too polite to be so blunt, but the meaning was clear.”

“How is Mr. Sato, after everything?” the thought of the old, benevolent club president being told off by the young rooster just didn’t sit right with me, no matter the circumstances. After all, it seemed that Tetsurou and I should thank Mr. Sato for his more or less subtle efforts to bring the two of us together.

Tetsurou picked out a piece of fish and slowly brought it to his mouth, reluctant to recount the particular event. He sighed,

“After I got up on Sunday I showered, shaved, put a suit on, got a bottle of the most expensive sake I could find, went to his house, kneeled in front of him and formally apologized,” Tetsurou chewed the food in his mouth listlessly, the displeased tone in his voice revealing he was well aware there was no excuse for him losing control the way he did, especially in front of younger coaches.

“Afterwards, he invited me to stay for lunch and we opened the sake bottle,” Tetsurou’s chopsticks continued dissecting the fish with precision of a surgeon, “And I got to listen to his advices and stories until the evening. But I think I am off the hook.”

He gave me a pale smile, not really feeling it and I could tell he was still angry with himself. I tried to imagine the tall Kuroo in a dark suit on his hands and knees in front of the little old president, with his forehead pressed against the floor, gravely repeating his _’moushiwake gozaimasen deshita’_ and getting scolded by his senpai for a change, and I wondered if Sato san was really that mad at him in the first place if he forgave him so readily.

“We should thank Mr. Sato for his troubles…” I let the thought trail off as I noticed Tetsurou’s notorious smile reemerge. My alarms started going off, too late.

“Well,” he purred, “I am glad you said that because you will have a chance to do just that next Sunday.”

“What? How?” I stopped chewing, not liking the smugness on his face.

“We have been invited to his house for lunch. His wife is a great cook,” Tetsurou beamed like he had tickets to the most desirable ride in the amusement park and I could only swallow my grumbles. We both knew that the next time the target of attention would be the newcomer – namely, me.

“Isn’t that nice of them?” I tried not to smile too sourly, as I dryly swallowed my food. While I didn’t rejoice at the idea of spending my precious Sunday stuck with two seniors that were not even my family, my heart’s pace quickened at the thought that in Mr. Sato’s eyes Tetsurou and I were already an established item to which Tetsurou didn’t object. Besides, why could I not count Mr. Sato as family; he has certainly been acting like an indulgent grandfather to me.

At that moment, my phone began to ring. I got the vibrating gadget out, noting Tetsurou’s faint smile as he noticed the Seidai pendant still attached to it, and then froze when I saw the display.

It was Hanako.

I looked up and met Tetsurou’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, like he had been expecting the call all along, observing my reaction. This was the shadow I brought to the table with me so it was up to me to deal with it.

I got up as if hit by a whip. “Sorry, I have to take the call,” mumbling quickly, I half ran to the door past the confused waiter, put my shoes on, stepped out on the cold street and closed the restaurant door behind me.

“H-hello,” I felt my body tremble, but it was not all due to the chilly late December wind.

“Hi!” Hanako seemed to be in a splendid mood somewhere where loud music was playing, “Wh... e y... u?”

“Huh?” I could barely make out her words above the background noise.

“Where are you?” she moved away from the source of the sound and repeated, “Don’t tell me you are spending the New Year’s Eve home alone?”

Something stabbed at heart. Hanako was still looking out for me, even though we didn’t hear from each other since bonenkai, even though we didn’t make plans to go out together tonight. Despite everything, she couldn’t bear to think of me, alone, huddled in front of a TV, watching other people partying and having a good time. On the other hand, I never worried about her, about whether she would have company or a friend to talk to. Suddenly, I felt like a traitor, on top of everything dining with her love interest and hiding it from her.

Maybe _I_ was not a friend I wanted her to be. Maybe she was better off without me.

“Hanako,” I whispered, feeling my heart break and by the silence on the other side I knew she recognized the tone of my voice. Friends knew such things. “I am so sorry.”

I turned my back to the street and wrapped my fingers around an iron fence, the coldness of the metal stinging bitterly, coming as a relief. When hot tears scalded my cheeks, I realized I had started to cry.

There was a long, uncharacteristic silence on the other side, while countless happy moments Hanako and I had shared flashed before my mind’s eye. I grit my teeth to keep the sobs quiet, clutching at the freezing iron bar.

I finally caught a breath.

“I am not alone,“ was all I managed to squeeze out. I waited for her reaction.

“Are you with Kuroo san?” she asked, sounding stern. There was not a trace of the initial joviality in her tone.

“Yeah,” I breathed, closing my eyes, and thought I could feel my heart stop in anticipation.

“I heard what happened at bonenkai after we left,” Hanako said after a long minute, “It was just a question of time, really.”

“Is that so?” I didn’t yet dare to open my eyes, the sharp pain in my hand and Hanako’s voice in my ear being the only link to the outside world. There was a beeping sound in the distance, indicating another caller was trying to reach me, but I ignored it. This conversation was already too much to handle.

“I hope he will make you happy,” the voice from the other side was neutral, I couldn’t tell whether she was wishing us all the best or saying goodbye, and that unfamiliar uncertainty rose a wave of panic in me. Since when I couldn’t read the meaning of Hanako’s words?

A sob escaped me and I willed my chest to close to stop another from following, but Hanako must have heard it.

“Don’t cry,” her words were as shaky as mine and I realized she must feel the same pain, wherever she was now, “You will ruin your make up.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I smiled despite the tears that now flowed down my cheeks, not caring anymore if she heard me crying. A picture of me wiping off her runny mascara in a toilet at the last hanami party replayed vividly in my mind, hurting like a lodged dagger.

“And that will ruin your date,” Hanako tried to sound reasonable and stern, but her sniffles filled my ear as I pressed the phone as close to my head as I could, wanting to be by her side to embrace her.

“Don’t you let anything or anyone ruin this date,“ she said after awhile, after her emotions subsided, “I know it means a lot to you.”

“I am sorry Hanako, I know you wanted to …” I started to apologize, to explain, but she cut me off, completely composed.

“Hey, I have other fish to fry at the party here,” there was pride and maturity I didn’t expect in the tone of her voice. “Kuroo san was just a whim, a pretty thing I wanted but couldn’t have and that hurt my ego,” she sighed and I knew it took a lot out of her to say it out loud, ”Maybe that was the reason I wanted him in the first place.”

A pause.

“I don’t want to lose a friend over a whim,” she sounded closer to her confident and cheerful self, the reliable, hardworking Hanako, and her words warmed by heart. I knew she had meant it.

“Hanako… thank you…” I stammered, daring to open my eyes and let the street lights in again, for the first time aware that the tears on my cheeks have started to cool and sting in the wind.

“Knock him off his feet, girl,” she said before she hung up and I could see her defiant smile. My best friend’s smile.

I wiped at my moist cheeks with the back of my hand, trembling from the cold like a leaf in the wind, when a shawl snaked around my shoulders out of nowhere. Tetsurou stood there with a concerned expression on his face.

“You left without your coat and were not coming back… I thought you ran out on me,” he attempted a joke, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I blinked away the remaining tears and gave him a beaming smile, feeling like a mountain had been lifted off my shoulders. I unwrapped my bare fingers from the iron bar and Tetsurou gently took them between his warm palms as we walked back towards the restaurant.

He didn’t ask and I didn’t explain, letting him gradually return the feeling in my fingers with his body heat.

* * *

The dinner, although cold, was delicious and we enjoyed it slowly, staring in each other’s eyes most of the time like any two people who were freshly, stupidly in love. The clock ticked away and we wanted to make it go slower, but midnight neared and champagne was served.

The hosts did a loud, group countdown to 0, prompting all guests to raise their glasses and make their wishes.

“Well I already got my birthday wish,” Tetsurou smiled enigmatically while we clinked the delicate long stem glasses together, “So I could go for a bold New Year wish this time.”

“Right,” I said, picking up my phone, “Time to turn a new page.”

After some fumbling, I found Tetsurou’s contact profile and opted to edit it while he observed with interest. I deleted the characters ‘KUROU’ and started entering ‘TETSU-ROU’.

“You know the characters of my name?” he seemed genuinely impressed.

“I might have snuck a peek at your membership application form,” I mumbled while busying myself with the updating.

“Oooh don’t tell me you too resorted to such childish methods,” Tetsurou grinned, “Now I am actually relieved.”

“Anyway,” I veered away from the subject of stupid things infatuated people did, “as I said, a new page, a new beginning.” I gave him an expectant look.

“Way ahead of you there,” he winked at me and I paused for a second before pressing the _CALL_ icon.

The phone by Tetsurou’s elbow vibrated and came alive with colors, a gentle melody and the timeless voice singing:

_“Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you…”_

filling the space between us. The display flashed a single word:

_kitten_

Flustered, he pressed X before putting the phone back, this time face down, on the table, “You could have just asked.”

It was my turn now to give him a smug grin, holding a phone over my mouth not to laugh out loud, “An Elvis fan, huh?”

“Well, I _do_ have a good taste,” he grinned right back at me, the cat landing on his feet, and I couldn’t really argue with that, could I?

* * *

In the small hours, when we finally emerged from the restaurant, the streets were still filled with people. Couples, groups, merry drunks, all made a river of smiling faces bathed by countless Christmas lights that decorated the city. We got our romantic date under the little lights, after all.

Walking hand in hand, we didn’t want to part, but it was too cold to continue to roam the streets. I was just about to reach my limit when I noticed we were standing in front of a love hotel. Raising my head to Tetsurou with something between a proposal and a plea in my eyes, he only shook his head.

“There is no way I am taking you to a love hotel on our first date,” he swung his rooster hairdo from side to side resolutely, the red tip of his nose revealing he must have been freezing too. “Besides, they don’t have real windows.”

“What?” my voice was muffled by his shawl, as I hopped from foot to foot to keep myself warm. Heading home now, like this, seemed like a wrong ending to a perfect evening, but I was out of options.

“My place has a nice view of the eastern skies,” he smiled, “so I invite you to watch hatsuhinode over a cup of hot tea with me.”

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t take me to your place on the first date either?” I cocked my head at him.

“That was last year,” he grinned while shrugging and I swear the flush in his cheeks was not just the cold pinching his skin, “I made a New Year wish in the meantime, remember?”

“Call a cab,” I smiled back at him. My own wish was not far off.

* * *

With soft music playing in the background and only a bed light on, bundled up together under warm covers we waited for the first sunrise of the year to come, but we were not about to rush it. There was still a lot to do before the dawn and, besides, all good things come to those who wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, thank you for sticking with this story until the end. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the ride :)
> 
> Since we have come this far together, if you are consideirng leaving feedbeck, know that I would love and appreciate to hear your impressions even though the last chapter had been written.
> 
> In hope that we will meet again somewhere, I bid you farewell :)


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